#they’re really boxy I love them

[rexbalistidae]

Weekly normal 💪

Also here is the original drawing for that first one, it’s over a year old from like June I think

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#16: The Secret Rendezvous (1.02)

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Ok, this scene has got to be a Top 5 TOWL scene for me. I love everything about Richonne's secret rendezvous from the 🔥 walk-up at the beginning to the passionate embrace at the end 😍...

So first we see Michonne talking to some CRM leaders during a vetting process. And again TOWL stayed aware of Danai’s flawless face card with the close-up shot. Contrasting the start of the episode when she says her name is Michonne, here she’s following what Rick told her and changing her name to introduce the CRM and us to a B named Dana Bethune.

Michonne is in her acting bag as she shares, “My name is Dana. And I’ve been out there a long time by myself. So long that it’s strange to hear my own voice.” Michonne smartly mixes truths into her lies as she tells them “I was in Georgia for a long time with my boyfriend and about 40 people” She really was in Georgia with her boyfriend both from before the apocalypse and the boyfriend-turned-husband she found in season 3 😋. 

Michonne says their group was led by leaders who she thought were good and says she was with her sister Elle, who was the HR lady from the caravan group at the top of the ep. Michonne says, “And then things changed. They changed. I saw it. I knew we should go. You always really know when to go.” Look at her passing Nat’s mentality down to the CRM. 😊 I was like CRM, y’all should be scared because a loyal person like Michonne is going to make sure Nat’s death is avenged. 💯

She’s asked about her weapon of choice and she says a Bo staff that she lost and is now making do with a knife. Playing up a certain aloofness Michonne looks at herself in the reflection of a window or two-way mirror idk. And you know while they’re observing her, sis is also observing everything about this place while trying to just appear more meek and even ditzy.

They ask if it bothers her that she’s being watched and it already shows how privy she is to things that she can tell she’s being surveilled. She softly says, “No I just haven’t seen myself in a while.”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

The CRM folk start telling Michonne about the place and how she can never leave and you can just see Michonne have a subtle reaction like 'Yeah alright we’ll see about that.' She knows that never-leave rule is about to get broken. Best believe.

They ask how she feels about the fact that she can’t leave and Michonne smiles and says, “I feel that what’s here, it’s what I’ve been looking for. It’s what I’ve been trying to believe in just a little while longer.” And not a lie was told right here. 💁🏽‍♀️

They have her baby up in this place so they absolutely do have what she’s been looking for. And I love her referencing the 'believe a little longer' motto from the iPhone and also how it again affirms that she believes in Rick so much just like in Rick's dreams. He’s what she’s been believing in.

This was a greatly acted scene from Danai playing Michonne playing Dana playing the CRM. 🤭 Like I love that Michonne was sorta playing in the CRM's face a bit and it was just so clear the CRM does not stand a chance against this woman. She’s a mother on a mission. Nothing is stopping her. 👌🏽

So then we see Michonne walking around the CRM in a consignee jacket and I love that hers has a cinched waist. Michonne isn't letting that boxy jacket completely hide the Coca-Cola body. I’m here for it. 💅🏽

As Michonne walks around you can tell that, similar to Woodbury, she’s making note of quite a bit in this place - except this time she’s trying to blend in more like her husband told her. And the main thing Michonne clearly wants to know as she's walking around right now is - where is Rick Grimes.

She walks up some steps clearly trying to see where he could be, and even with all these CRM soldiers in helmets I know she’d be able to spot Rick if she saw him among them. And why? Because of that walk. 😏

But baby, she doesn’t have to spot him because of course the magnets in them have Rick spotting her first and making a beeline to her. I adore this walking moment. 🤩 I rewound it so much cuz I too love that man's walk lol.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

So Michonne is walking and then we see a soldier very intently making his way to her and I love the way it’s shot. Rick’s walk is iconic and so I love that that’s how you can immediately tell it’s him. And as we know, we’re not the only one who loves Rick’s walk because as he approaches Michonne and quietly takes her arm Michonne has this instant smitten smile upon recognizing his touch and walking alongside him. 😊

This scene made it clear that TOWL was gonna have a lot of fun with Richonne’s love and desire being at the foundation of the show. And you just know Rick was eagerly waiting for the moment he could get to her. He was a man on a mission. A mack-on-Michonne mission. 😌

And the moment as he takes her arm and silently guides her into a room is just hot, what can I say? 🔥

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I love seeing Rick take control and seeing Michonne try to be subtle but clearly look so excited to be back with him. 😊

Also, now y’all when would a soldier…especially this soldier, grab a consignee by her arm and guide her into a room alone lol? That alone likely would've raised suspicions around the CRM. But I'm glad they did it anyway cuz it was a joy to see Rick and Michonne walk side by side again. CRM, y’all don’t even know you now have the most lethal married couple in your midst walking arm and arm rn. 🤭

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick leads her into the room and gives one last look outside to make sure no one is headed their way. The way he looks around before going inside, you know he knows exactly what they're about to do.

So then we get a top-tier scene as Rick and Michonne walk into the garage?? Idk what that place was exactly so I’ll just call it a garage lol. 

Rick and Michonne walk into the garage and give each other a quick look before checking to make sure the coast is clear. Rick checks one side and Michonne checks the other and then y’all, Rick has a very clear mission and it’s not swapping information it’s swapping saliva lol. I promise you, dishing out information and making a plan was secondary on the agenda for Rick during this secret rendezvous. 😋

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick proceeds to put his helmet down and before Michonne can even confirm that she doesn’t see anybody on her side, Rick grabs her and they basically pounce on each other with kisses and it’s the best. 😊They both are starving for each other and this kiss made it clear.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

You can tell the moment Rick put that helmet down he was laser-focused on loving on Michonne. He basically said I’ll brief you on this mysterious advanced society that’s kept me from you for years if we have time in between the main priority of making out.

I adore the way he grabs her neck and then the way Michonne is always ready to match the energy as she wraps her arms around him. And y’all, how nice of them to have a kiss that is as pleasing to the ear as it is to the eye because they, and Rick especially, stayed moaning in these TOWL kisses. Love to see it/hear it. 😋

I always say Richonne’s kisses are a form of communication and their first wordless conversation in the CRM - or 'moanversation' if you will - had them both making it very clear to each other that they’re ecstatic to be back together.  

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And after almost 8 years apart, the intensity of this kiss makes perfect sense, and I love that they knew exactly how to communicate how hungry Richonne are for each other in every way. This kiss is A1. 👏🏽

Like the way they lean against the vehicle and Rick puts his arm up against the vehicle to be mindful of Michonne adds such a cute caring layer to this whole top-tier moment. And the way they’re swaying and wrapped up in each other, her knees buckling, his hands in her hair, the way he chased her lips at the end. Just yes to all of it. 👏🏽

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

I love how the kiss is so immensely passionate and then afterward they just have this moment of holding each other and breathing together. Seeing the way Michonne smiles after and touches his face, you can seriously see how safe she feels with Rick. Like she still knows so little about this place but she’s back in his arms so she knows somehow it’ll be okay. 🥲

And then y’all, we get the first signature Richonne forehead touch in TOWL as they break from the kiss and still stay wrapped in each other's arms. It's one of the classic Richonne things they do and I love the intimacy of it. 🥹

gif cred: @lousolversons

That kiss clearly left them breathless as Rick whispers, “They believed you.” And Michonne earnestly asks, “How do you know?” Rick says, “You’re here.” And the way he says that you can tell his elation comes not just from the fact that she passed the CRM vetting process but most of all that she’s really here with him after all this time.

And then because Rick is like this rendezvous is about making out first, information second - he goes right back to kissing Michonne and moaning as they pull each other in as close as possible. 😊

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne reciprocates but then she notices something. And this is where the loss of Rick’s hand is mourned yet again by me because we all know the reason Michonne notices Rick’s missing hand is because she’s like normally this would be the part where I feel your hand on my backside but it hasn’t happened yet so, something must have happened.

After not feeling that signature palm on her behind, she stops to touch Rick’s prosthetic and I adore how Rick is still so in the moment of kissing her that he kisses her one more time as she turns to look at his arm. The man is voracious about his wife and I love it. 😊

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne gently holds his prosthetic in her hand and looks at Rick with so much care and concern as she wonders what happened. I feel like this is the first time in years that anybody showed this level of care for what Rick went through and I love that she immediately wants to know what happened to her baby. You know if the CRM had cut his hand off themselves the beef she has with them would only intensify. In a way, the CRM did have a hand in Rick losing his hand so they gotta pay.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick looks down at his prosthetic too and shares sadly but also with a certain resolve, “It happened a long time ago. One of the last times I tried to get home.”  I love that he says 'tried to get home' rather than just 'tried to get away.' It shows that in every way the CRM is not home - Michonne and their family still are home to him.

Also, it’s interesting how for Michonne this is devastating news but for Rick, this is old news and he’s just like what’s more important is making out rn. But Rick’s words catch Michonne’s attention as she repeats his words back and says, “One of the last times?”

This is Michonne’s first indicator that Rick might have stopped trying to get home. I think in her mind she thought surely Rick would have been still working on an escape but after fighting like hell to get home for years he had to stop trying - and not even because he wanted to give up but because he was made to feel that going home could get his wife and loved ones killed.

(Side note: I love that the bullet shell from Rick's gun is visible in Michonne’s hair in this scene. She really found every way possible to still be close to him 🥲) 

gif cred: @nat111love

Rick’s reaction to her asking this makes me emotional. 😢 He looks into her eyes as he too hears how his words sound and then he takes a deep breath. Breathing tells a very informative story throughout TOWL. And with this inhale from Rick you can just feel the weight of what he’s been through and now, finally having a moment to share some of it with Michonne, it’s probably difficult for him to even know where to begin.

gif cred: @nat111love

It’s hard because we as the audience got to see how hard he fought to get home but at this moment you know it's overwhelming to even know how to tell Michonne how hard this years-long separation and imprisonment has been on him. But he so badly wants Michonne to know that it wasn’t for a lack of trying or a lack of love that he stopped trying to get home.

He tells her, “They had me trapped.” And then the way my heart literally overflows with emotion when Rick so sincerely says, “They don’t have me anymore.” It’s so moving and beautiful to see Rick become the heart-eye emoji as he tells Michonne they don’t have him anymore. 🥲

There’s a clear second part of that sentence that’s not said aloud but rather in Rick's eyes - 'they don’t have me anymore...because I’m yours.'

gif cred: @riickgrimes

The way he looks at her with that teary-eyed smile, knowing he’s hers. 😭 It's touching and layered because he so sincerely wants to reassure Michonne of this, all while knowing that the damage they've done to him is pretty severe.

It’s also so powerful for him to say this because while their situation is still dire and in many ways, Michonne and us will learn the CRM does still have him more than he’d like, in this moment Rick genuinely wants to believe that he’s no longer chained to the CRM.

They don’t get to have him anymore, even if that’s what it still looks like on the outside, because the woman who makes him come alive, the brightest light in his world, is back with him. That alone makes him feel like he is no longer stuck with the CRM.

Rick knows his heart will always belong to her and that was communicated in this sweet line and his loving eyes and smile at her after he says it. 

Rick then says with certainty, “We will get away. Together” because right now he does believe that Richonne can do anything. He’s tried to get away for years but having Michonne here now makes all the difference.

gif cred: @nat111love

And I love the eye contact as he looks at her with so much love and smiles, feeling so right being back with her. Like just looking at her gives him strength. At the same time, it moves me how much you can see in his eyes that he's eager to be the determined and strong man Michonne once knew, despite feeling dead and broken after what he endured the last seven or so years.

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne of course believes and is comforted by Rick’s words that they’ll get away together as she smiles and nods. Again she trusts him more than anybody in the world. 

gif cred: @nat111love

Also, I love how Rick’s reunion with Michonne as his wife is one where without even having to address it they both just know they’ve waited for each other. They know they’re still the one to each other. As we know, after just a few months Rick reunited with Lori and she was already pregnant with his best friend's baby. So it’s beautiful to see Rick now reunite with his wife Michonne after years and know that she really has only wanted him all these years. And if anything her big reveal will be that she was pregnant with his baby. 🥲

But while that's understandably not revealed in this scene, there's still some more great mom and dad content when Rick again wants to confirm his baby girl is okay.

He asks, “They're okay? She's okay?” I love him asking that and the way he asks, nodding and looking right into Michonne's eyes. Again it’s so vulnerable and caring. A true father. You know making sure his loved ones are good is so important to him.

gif cred: @bizarre-hostile

And “they’re okay” means team family which is sweet that he wants to know they're okay. I liked hearing "they're okay?" too because while Rick doesn't know it, he does in fact have more than one kid out there and it almost felt like without even knowing it he’s asking if both his kids are okay.

Michonne answers with a smile and says, “Yes. She’s okay.” She has this smile that’s so specific to when she’s thinking about her kids and it’s precious. 🥲

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Michonne continues, wanting to finally tell Rick all about how amazing their daughter has turned out as she goes, “She’s…” but then she stops herself and you just know the image of a certain Little Brave Man has popped into her head. 😭

And it’s a moment that hits my heart as you see Michonne feel both joy and sadness. Because she misses RJ too and because she knows Rick is going to be filled with layered emotions the second he learns of him.

Since the moment she found out she was pregnant you know Michonne longed to be able to share with Rick that they had a baby. Rick can tell she has something big to say too as he asks, “What is it?”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I noted in this scene you can really tell that Rick can sense that Michonne has something major to tell him and he knows it’s about their immediate family but he doesn’t know what it is which is why he keeps thinking it might have to do with Judith being okay. Like you can see sometimes he searches her eyes trying to figure it out because whatever the news is he can feel it’s about their kid. And he’s right. It's just about the kid he doesn't know of yet.

And you can also see the thoughts running through Michonne’s head as she and Rick stay in each other's arms between these vehicles. She longs to tell him about RJ but knows this isn’t the right time yet. And as always, she’s right. I heard there were some viewers upset and thinking she made the wrong choice by not telling Rick right here and now and that was wild to me.

This is Richonne’s first time getting to even have an extended conversation and even then it can’t be that long because they can’t risk being caught. And major life-changing news that you have a son that you had no clue about and have missed all of his life thus far is not the kind of thing to drop on someone when there won’t even be time to elaborate and ask questions and just process the news together.

I fully support Michonne choosing to wait and it’s actually such an act of kindness to Rick because she knows that news is going to shock him and be very bittersweet and just a lot to take in and she ideally wants to tell him when they can more freely talk.

Like after holding their child in her womb alone she basically chooses to now hold the news of their son alone just a bit more for Rick’s well-being.

Rather than just drop it on him and have him carry that news on top of carrying the task of getting them home, she shows discipline and restraint and lovingly smiles as she tells him, “When we get away.” (Also I always just love thinking that when Michonne looks at Rick here she’s seeing all of RJ’s little traits he got from his dad. 🥰)

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I adore the way Rick says, “No. She’s okay?” He’s such a concerned dad and again he knows, because of his and Michonne’s interconnectedness, that there’s something more she has to say about their immediate family. I just love that he’s like I can’t wait until we get away to know for certain our baby girl is okay. But Rick, little do you know the news is actually about your beautiful baby boy.

Also, the fact that Rick is so not okay after everything he’s been through all these years but his main care is that Judith is okay 🥲. Warms my heart.

And then the way Michonne responds, it’s my favorite thing ever. 🥹She says the absolute perfect thing as she assuredly tells him, “She’s us, Rick.”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Y’all. 😭 It’s the perfect response and so true. Judith really is a little Richonne baby. 🥹

It’s so beautiful for Michonne to tell Rick that their daughter is just like her mom and her dad. Rick gets to know not only is their baby alive and okay but she has qualities like him even despite his absence and she’s also like the love of his life which you know would make him happy to see Judith turn out like Michonne.

I love that Michonne looks at Judith and sees her and Rick. 🥹 And that they’re an 'us' like that. And also I love the way Michonne has her hand in Rick’s hair as she comforts him with this confirmation that their baby girl is bound to be okay because she’s just like her resilient parents.

Michonne calmly says, “The rest when we get away” and hearing Judith is them is enough for Rick to feel a bit less anxious and agree to wait for the rest of the family updates. 

gif cred: @riickgrimes

He nods and then remembers this is probably also a good time to get their next steps in order.

Rick tells Michonne if he passes her a note somehow she has to read it and destroy it. Michonne looks into Rick’s eyes because she has to address some things about this shady CRM as she tells him, “They killed people, Rick. Dozens of people.” I know Michonne is like my friends died and I almost died from these people so wth is this place? (Also I love how often she says Rick’s name since they've reunited.)

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

As Rick mesmerizingly stares into her soul (and i'm not even exaggerating about that lol) Michonne says, “They’re killing people out there. Have you had to…?” And before she can finish the question, Rick is quick to want to make it clear that he means it when he says he’s not with them as he says, “No. No. The ones in red. They go out sometimes. They come back covered in blood.”

He looks at her toward the tail end of that statement but it’s interesting how for the most part he looks down when talking about the CRM, again almost like there’s this sense of shame and fear surrounding them.

He says, “Most of us don’t know what they do. I didn’t know.” Rick looks into Michonne's eyes as he admits to not knowing about the CRM's mass killings and then he vulnerably says, “But I knew. I was stuck here.” That’s the one thing the CRM made very clear to him. 

Seeing the toll the CRM has taken on her friends and now her husband, Michonne knows the CRM needs to be taught a lesson and brought down so she, as determined as ever, asks Rick, “Could we stop them?”

And y’all I absolutely adore Rick’s response to her. 😍 The way a big smile spreads across his face as he gets to see Michonne is still the woman he knows and loves who won’t take anything lying down. She's still her. Again, you just see him have so much love for the part of her that’s a fighter. Like the way Rick just has to swoon for a second over his wife's determination is the sweetest thing. 😊

But then Rick collects himself, knowing taking on the CRM is too risky as he definitively answers, “No.” Michonne takes a moment to look at Rick, surprised and searching for the man who was always willing to fight the fight with her before. Then she asks, “Could we try?” 

Rick is quiet for a moment, not wanting to have to just turn her down about this, but he knows a thing or two about how hard you can try against the CRM and they still come out on top. So he softly says, “We’d never get back.” Getting home with Michonne is the ultimate priority for him.

And then in the first of many times Rick will gift Michonne in TOWL, he reaches into his pocket and gives Michonne Nat’s signature lighter that his stepparent Danger gave him. 🥹

Once again Rick wins Husband of the Year because how sweet is his good kind heart that he saw the lighter in the woods and pocketed it knowing it would mean something to Michonne to have something of her late friend. He’s the best. 🥰 And I love the way he gently lifts up her hand with his prosthetic to give her the lighter and the way their hands linger in each other as she takes it. Every time they touch it's clear they're magnets. 🧲

Rick so sweet and sincere says, “I’m sorry about your friend.” Like truly, anything and anyone that means something to Michonne means something to Rick because he loves her so much - even the guy who nearly killed Rick by shooting down his helicopter.

Michonne, never one to forget her loved ones' memory, says, “He should’ve lived. They all should’ve lived.” But then she takes a quiet moment and confidently looks right into Rick’s eyes as she says, “I’m here now. We’re in here together now. And we’re gonna get home.”

gif cred: @ddesole

I love how Rick and Michonne both want to fervently reassure each other of this - that they’re in this together and they’re going to achieve their goal of getting home because they’re here as a unit now. Having each other back makes them know they can do anything…at least for now. 

And then Rick is ready to go back to the activity that was always at the top of his agenda for this secret rendezvous because he’s like 'Michonne, you can’t be a hotly determined A like that and think these magnets aren’t going to kick in to overdrive and have me eating your face again lol.' #DirectQuote 😋

So Rick of course leans in to kiss her again and Michonne looks like she might’ve thought they were going to continue the conversation but then of course it takes less than a second for her to reciprocate the energy and start passionately kissing him back.

gif cred: @hikarielizabethbloom

I really adore that closing kiss. These kisses stay feeling like they’re trying to inhale each other and physically morph into one being. and then I especially adore the way they embrace after it, just overcome with the amount of love they pour out to each other. It’s so sweet seeing them nestled into each other. 🥰 Every physical Richonne action, from the kisses, the forehead touches, the embraces, and more is so 'spine-tinglingly' intimate.

As Rick leans against her, you can see that he does feel a bit overwhelmed and unsure of how he’s gonna get them out of here. But being wrapped in her arms now he’s at least given the strength and the calm to know somehow they’ll find a way.

And as Michonne holds him close, she looks like so long as she has him, she’ll face whatever else may come her way in this giant mysterious place. It really does feel like she's transferring this much-needed uplifting energy and reassurance to him as they stay in this embrace.

The way Richonne gives each other life gives me life. And this scene makes me so happy like it’s oozing serotonin.

Richonne is in for quite a roller coaster after they leave this moment in the garage so I appreciate this scene - their first extended conversation in years - for giving them a time when they're on the same page.

With this scene, they got to show that their chemistry is still as fiery as ever and they’re still such a well-oiled machine as parents and partners. Whenever Rick and Michonne are in each other's arms they’re in the safest place they could be.

But while they’re the ultimate safety to each other, to the CRM...Richonne is most definitely the danger. 😌👌🏽

[elmuvahva]

let me talk about leo and donnie’s matching clothes pLEASE

plus a lil bit of mikey and raph near the end :>

so we all know the obvious ones like in ‘repairin’ the baron’ and in ‘man vs sewer’

but i want to talk about the little things hehe. starting with the two mentioned above anyways lmaooo

yes they’re matching but i love the little differences they add on. leo wears a blue undershirt, fully going ride or die with his blue theme, while donnie goes for a white undershirt for a more classic look.

i think that says a lil but about their characters and how they thought to present themselves to april’s mum (who they thought they were meeting). they both wanted to look good hence the stunning matching outfits, but leo also wanted to be himself (hence the blue undershirt), compared to donnie who wanted to appeal to april’s mother (hence the more classic look with the white).

in man vs sewer, they are both wearing the singlet and board short combo, however leo opts for simplicity and ‘laidbackness’ keeping the bare minimum and keeping his shirt loose and untucked. donnie on the other hand goes further and adds the extra decorative shirt to really hammer home the ‘i’m not a useful member of society’ and the holiday/break vibes he’s trying so hard to feel. he also chooses to tuck his shirt in, which i think is just a personal stylistic choice, one which extenuates and shows off the board shorts more and one which mirrors his belt that’s a part of his usual outfit.

now onto snow day :>

at a brief glance it doesn’t seem like they’re matching but you’d be wRONG! they’re wearing the same shoes, pants and scarf, however they choose different jackets and headgear according to their personal tastes (i also wanna point out how donnie’s pants are more boxy/puffy at the bottom to fit with his whole rectangle theme, while leo’s are tucked in firmly, providing a more angular/triangular look).

leo chose a sirius black looking leather jacket bc why wouldn’t he lmaooo. it very much screams leo in the sense of his faceman attitude and his ‘confidence.’ he also chose a beanie which provides a more hippie, laidback and cool vibe.

donnie, ever the nerd, matches his jacket and headwear, as they both have the light purple fluff. donnies jacket is also much more practical and feels like something you’d see skii-ers (how tf do you spell that), hikers and snow-bikers wear. he’s also wearing the ugliest fucking hat /lh that’s reminiscent of what those occupations also wear.

so what we can take away from this is that leo will look cool whatever the weather and donnie will dress for the practicality of the occasion.

now in the clothes dont make the turtle there are A LOT of matching outfits, not just from donnie and leo, for example, in the images above, all the boys are wearing classic black suits with white button downs, however they all style them differently.

i’d also like to note the slight differences on the collars of the suit jackets (leo and donnie’s are matching, mikey’s is more rounded with a lil point and raph’s mirrors his spikes).

they all style their suits differently by using different ties. leo goes for a black and blue striped tie, which i think showcases his sense of style and his playfulness in comparison to raph, who decides to play it safe with a classic one-toned tie.

mikey goes for a cute bowtie bc why wouldn’t he he’s adorable, and it also fits in with him being the youngest and ‘the baby’, as bowties are most commonly worn by kids.

donnie decides to completely forego the tie altogether bc he doesn’t need it, he’s already stunning 😩 lmao but i actually think he’s just really playing into his emotionally unavailable bad boy image.

there’s also these matching monstrosities for god knows what reason

and it’s not super matchy, but raph and leo also both rock the singlet under the open button down shirt (though the colours are swapped and leo pops the collar causes he’s an idiot /aff)

and lastly!! these outfits. now at first glance, you’re probably thinking ‘elva what the fuck are you going on about’ BUT just hear me out!!

they both have ripped aspects to their outfits, leo’s at the shoulders and donnie’s at the waist. it’s obviously not an intentional match but i think they just subconsciously did it :>

they’re also both wearing head accessories, though in totally different styles (leo with his backwards cap to look ‘cool’ while donnie adorns a beanie to complete his LA hipster vibe)

ugh i’ve met the image limit for this post so here’s the link to the post that continues my rambling lolol

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Carpe Noctem 21

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

As you come home, the house is seemingly empty. You sneak up to the guest room and tuck your bag beside the bed, your apron buried inside. After a long day of steaming milk and trying to perfect your latte art, you don’t have the energy to reveal the truth. It’s better he doesn’t know. He’d agree, he probably doesn’t even care.

That’s your real problem. You just need to accept that other people don’t care as much as you. That’s not a flaw in you, it just means you need to adjust your expectations. Or maybe just see things for what they are. Honesty would save you a lot of disappointment.

You go downstairs and lazily pluck out ingredients from the pantry and fridge. You always found cooking relaxing. A clear goal with small steps. Not to mention, the kitchen is much bigger than your boxy apartment. You’ll enjoy the luxury while you can.

You fill the pot and the aromas mingle fragrantly, tugging at your stomach. Even after tasting nearly every dessert in the cafe, you’re starving. You stir the mixture and open the bag of tortilla chips nestled away in the cupboard.

“Don’t eat those all,” Lloyd startles you.

You look at him over your shoulder, “won’t. They’re just to go with the soup.”

“Soup?” He glances at the stove and you pull down two bowls.

“Tortilla soup. My specialty.”

“Really? I was just going to order from The Duke.”

“That’s expensive,” you say, “there’ll be lots of leftovers so–”

“Leftovers?”

“Save some money–”

“Not really something I’m worried about, baby cakes,” he crosses the kitchen and sniffs emphatically at the stove, “tomato-ey.”

“Well, if you don’t like it, I can freeze it. I’ll take it for lunch–”

“Why are you doing this?” He asks abruptly.

“Why am I… cooking?”

“Yes.”

“Well, because we need to eat,” you say as if it’s obvious.

“We? You’re… not my mother. Or wife.”

“Clearly,” you agree. “I’ll replace the ingredients. Sorry, I just thought… maybe a nice gesture since I’m staying here.”

“Nice gesture. I got a few of those in mind but they don’t include a hot stove.”

You glance over at him. Right, yeah, you’re a body to him, not anything else. You realise now, it was the same with Johnny. You were just a thing to him. You cleaned up, you cooked, but he never really looked after you.

“The soup won’t take long,” you assure him.

He takes a breath and sighs, drawing close, looming over you as you take out the cheese shredder. He watches as you unwrap the cheese and grate it. You don’t know what else to do but keep going. You feel like you’ve crossed some line you can’t see.

“I just want us to be clear,” he taps his fingers on the counter, “this isn’t… serious. Us, I mean. There’s no us. Not outside the bedroom. Got it?”

You frown, “I know that. I’m not stupid. And I certainly am not interested in that.”

He’s quiet as he drags his hand off the counter. He exhales, “good to know. We understand each other.”

“We do,” you nod.

You wrap up the unused cheese. As you do, he reaches to steal a pinch of the shredded cheese. You instinctively swat his hand away and he recoils.

“Eh,” he shoves the cheese in his mouth.

“You didn’t wash your hands,” you accuse him.

“You’ve had worse than my hands near your mouth–”

“Jeez,” you huff, “you’re going to make a mess.” 

You move the plate of cheese across the counter and tidy up the few stray pieces across the counter. You toss them in the pin and take a cloth to wipe down the marble. He lurks, pacing around the kitchen.

“I’ll have extra chips with mine,” he nears the door, pausing as you sense him watching you but don’t look. “I’ll figure out dessert, baby face.”

🍷

The next day you don’t bother making yourself coffee. You’ll have more than your share at the cafe. You dress and leave at the usual time, parking a block away from the shop and walking the rest of the way. 

As you approach, you see Cole ahead of you. He unlocks the front door and glances over with a smile. He waves as he tugs with his other hand. He turns his attention back to the door and struggles to dislodge the keys.

You come close and watch him wiggle and jiggle the key ring.

“Dang thing gets stuck every day,” he shakes his head.

“Can I try?” You offer.

“Sure,” he steps back,throwing his hands up in exasperation, “not as strong as I look, I guess.”

You don’t comment. He’s tall and even under his corduroy jacket, you can tell he’s in good shape. You grab the end of the key and give it a small wiggle, sliding it out easily. Not much force, just a bit of finesse.

“You don’t have to be strong,” you offer him the keys, “just have to coax it a little.”

“Thanks,” he takes the keys, his fingers brushing yours, “you’re a godsend. I swear. I think… call me crazy, but last night I was telling my ma that you were sent to us for a reason.”

“You did?” You ask as he reaches around you to open the door, waving you in ahead of him.

You enter and he follows, pulling the door shut to lock from the inside.

“Oh, yeah, I mean, I’ve been interviewing like crazy. Most of the staff lasts a day and gives up but I can tell… you’re committed,” his sleeve touches yours as he passes, putting his passenger bag on the countertop as he stretches and looks around, “well, you want a coffee before we go through opening?”

“I’d love that but I can wait if–”

“Nah, we got plenty of time,” he interjects, “besides, that’s one of the steps. We do a batch medium and dark roast before opening so we’re ready to serve when doors open.”

“Oh, makes sense,” you peer around and set to taking the chairs down of the tables and set them right.

“I’ll get those,” he insists, “please. Lady’s shouldn’t be doing all that.”

You hesitate as you place another chair on its legs. You glance over at him as moves behind the counter. The comment isn’t exactly HR friendly but you don’t think he means anything. He’s just the type who likes to wear shining armor. 

“I don’t mind.”

“I do,” he insists as he approaches the till, “come on. Let’s make the coffee.”

You step away from the tables. He is your boss. You go around the counter into the narrow space behind it. You forgot how cramped it is here.

“You wanna put your stuff in my office?” He asks as he prods the bag slung from your shoulder, “I’ll get this warmed up.”

“Oh, I guess…”

Here, the brass key,” he hands over the keyring, “you can leave those on the desk.”

“Right.”

You take the keys and go through the kitchen and turn into the small hallway between that and the storage room. You go to the office door with the peeling paint and the worn side that reads management. This place needs a lot of work.

You let yourself into the office and set the keys on the corner of the desk. You put your coat and bag in the chair against the wall, eyeing the picture of a younger Cole and who you assume are his parents. The backdrop is grassy and bright. He’s smiling that same sunshiny smile. You wonder how he’s held onto that.

You close the door behind you as you head back. You can hear him humming as you come down the hallway. Is that Frankie Valli?

[lipstickhotchocolate]

Kind of want to combine my hyperfixations and redesign Stardew bachelorettes and bachelors in various eras of vintage fashion?

If I don’t end up drawing this, here’s my general vision so far just because (yes I am skipping the 30s and 40s because I don’t find them as visually interesting):

20s:

Penny. Her hair reminds me a lot of the pinned up faux bobs that flappers would wear and I think she would look AMAZING in a drop waist and cloche hat.

Krobus. His little trench coat get up gives me sort of 1920s Agatha Christie detective novel vibes.

50s:

Shane, because I think he would look dapper with a kind of Cary Grant and Marlon Brando hybrid inspired look? Like with sharp lines and but because he’s messy his sharp suit is ruffled after a long night.

Abigail. I know this isn’t the obvious choice, but due to my hatred™️ of Pierre and Caroline’s parenting style, Abigail’s story has always felt a bit like her breaking away from tradition, especially for gender wise. As such, I want to draw her in Beatnik style, with a black turtleneck, a beret, slacks, and huge dark glasses.

60s:

Harvey :). His fascination with planes means I absolutely have to draw him in the golden age of travel. I’m thinking a smart suit, kind of more early 1960s, inspired by the fashion in the original Bond films.

Haley. I would probably do a different part of 60s fashion to Harvey for her, more akin to the mid to late sixties Swinging London movement, as inspired by Twiggy and Mary Quant. Boxy mini dress, Gogo boots and a Bridget Bardot-esque bouffant.

70s:

Maru. The 70s were big for jumpsuits and women’s fashion got a lot more practical, which I think works well with her personality. I love Maru and I love flared jeans so 🫠 I also think I would give her big hair (I love her older game designs)

Leah. Leah’s hippie artist vibes work perfectly for the 70s flowery hippie fashion. Please put my girl in a loose fitting prairie dress or some bell sleeves. Her hair would also work with the long natural wavy look of that era.

80s:

Emily. I know her vibes are at a first glance 70s, but the style of her dress and her hair remind me SO MUCH of Winona Ryders wedding dress in beetlejuice? So the gothy fashion of the 80s with big spiky hair and mesh and craftiness remind me of Emily.

Elliot. Once again at a first glance 70s, but I will put this man in a late 70s/early 80s glam rock outfit if it kills me. With the massive hair and the sort of military inspired studded jacket and everything. Hear me out.

Alex: the 80s were probably the start of the jock character, and Alex to me reads like he could literally be a character in the breakfast club to be honest. He must be taken back to his roots.

90s:

Sam. In the 90s skater boy fashion was literally like… the thing, so this is obvious. Give him a baggy ahh flannel , a baggier ahh graphic tee and a baggiest ahh pair of jeans. And some fugly 90s man hair.

Sebastian. Not really a huge redesign, but I’m incapable of not drawing him as like a mall goth / early emo kid (yes I know they’re different but similar style roots).

[vinetae]

Can I please ask for a neighbour jimin who gets intensely attracted to y/n, they flirt a lil here and there and due to a guy's visit he gets extremely possesive and claims his ownership 💦🥵

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” Your eyes lull to the back of your head at his shameless attempt. 

“And you’d be really cute with this knife shoved in your thick head.” He laughs, raising an eyebrow up in questioning. 

“So you think I’m cute?”

You scoff, eyes rolling. “Not in the slightest.” He hums, tilting his head before following you into your room. 

“But you said really, which means that I was just cute before. So therefore, you think I’m extra cute.”

Smile - PJM

____________________

Genre: Neighbours!Jimin x Neighbors!Reader, (Ft. Love interest Taehyung)

Word Count: my guess... 12K ?

Warnings: Lying, accusations, broken friendships, cunillingus, f.masturbation, wet dreams, pinning, vaginal fingering, games under the table, exhibitionism, voyeurism, light ass play, dirty talk, hurt no comfort (I'm so sorry Tae Tae), use of the word 'faggot', cursing, harsh language, foul language. Camera play, videotaping of sexualactivities, pornographic described photos sessions. Possessive!Jimin, Yandere!Jimin, sub!reader, usage of 'wifey' terms and Y/n being a helpless damsel in distress. Y/n being innocent, and Jimin loves it lol. Jimin coerces Y/n into a nude photography shoot. Jimin is VERY VERY sneaky and charming.

A/n: this got lost in my Tumblr drafts which I don't use anymore. I'm so sorry, anon! Please forgive me 🙏🙏🙏🙏💜 I wanted to post this to remind myself to write part 2 when I get the chance. To give you guys a sneak peak I guess? I just gotta write the steamy.. 🥵

.

.

You take in a deep breath, nodding your head in assurance. “Thanks again for the help, guys! Really appreciate it.” They’re quick to ignore the comment, brushing past your shoulder quite roughly. You silently groan, rubbing at the sensitive skin before turning back around to meet their gazes. 

“Total’s 120 for the three hours plus lift.” He gruffs, jotting down the amount on the piece of paper. You nod, feeling the jolt of him shoving the little slip into your grip. 

“Have it paid by next Tuesday.” He turns around, picking the large toolbox up off your oak flooring before exiting. You rush over, leaning in the door to thank them once again but they don’t return the same attitude. 

You huff, folding your arms at the annoyance. Blowing a piece of hair from your view, your eyes scan the loitered hallway full of your things.

Your eyes follow a dark shadow across the corridor, waving at the young man. A black ball cap covered his face, along with a darkened gray mask. His clothes had resembled ones that someone would sleep in to keep warm in the cold winter days. Black sweatpants and sweatshirt to match. 

Your arm flies in the air, waving as he passes by. “Hi!” 

He brushes your arm, moving past your body before walking into the doorway of his apartment. 

“Hmph. Rude much..” You gruff, taking in a breath.

 “Alright..”  You lean down to lift the heavy box. It had been quite heavy, until suddenly the weight felt light as a feather. You lean to the side to look past the large cardboard box,  seeing a young flash you a bright smile. 

“Here, I’ve got it.” He adds, pushing his way past the rest of your things before turning around for guidance. 

“Oh uh- just set it down in the livingroom.” He nods, placing the large box down before walking back to the hallways. Your hand catches his shoulder before he continues. 

“Uhm.. who are you?” 

He flashes a quick grin before lifting another box. “I’m part of the moving crew. Sorry my dad’s such a..” 

“Pain in the ass?” He laughs at the joke. 

“Exactly.” His hand extends out, a boxy smile plasters his expressions. “My name’s Kim Taehyung.” You nod, shaking his hand with the same enthusiasm. You take a glance down the hallway, frowning. 

“Won’t you miss your ride?” He shakes his head, while hoisting two boxes into his grip.

“I drove here myself. I’m just working as a mover for the summer. Just some extra cash I can show off.” He winks before taking the boxes back into your apartment. You chuckle, watching as he makes quick work of the boxes that would’ve taken you hours to finish moving. 

“Oh- How rude of me!” You yelp, running to the kitchen, peaking out from the fridge’s door to call out to him. “Would you like anything to drink?” He sets the box down, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead. His permed fluffy, puppy-like hair had floofed up even more from Korea’s hot summers. 

“Water please?” He asks. Your body freeze at the sight. Eyes trailing down the plains of his torso, watching as his six-pack tenses with each move of his joints. The lump in your throat felt as thick as a golf ball. 

“Uh- yes. Of course!” You laugh it off, trying to hide the nervousness in your tone. You’re quick to make work of his water -like there was much to do anyways- before you set it on the coffee table he’d already placed down. His sweating body takes a seat on your hardwood floors, legs crossing in manner. 

“Thank you” He glances up through the glass, flashing you a bright smile. You plop down onto the edge of your sectional, taking slight-

Who were you kidding? 

You’re watching this Taehyung guy drink water like it’s the best telanovela you’d ever seen. 

He downs the glass quickly, setting it quietly on the coffee table in front of the two of you. “Anything else I can do?” He questions, internally smirking at the way you’d been staring at his adam’s apple for the past minute or so. 

You shake your head, pulling yourself from the rabbit hole of dirty thoughts. “I think that’s it.” You reach out to your purse, rummaging through the tiny folds of tightly laced fabrics before taking a glance up. “How much do I owe you?” 

He smiles, pulling out his phone to calculate the total. His eyebrows knit together, watching as his face intensifies on the numbers. After a few minutes of torture, he contuines, sliding the phone back into his pocket. 

“Sixty-nine dollars, or.." He eyes you up and down, lips trailing out to pad across his bottom lip. "you.”

Your eyebrow quirks at his weird statement. He shakes his head, chuckling nervously.

“No I mean- Ah fuck.. I’m not good with pick up lines, am I?” His hand reaches back to rub at the nape of his neck, acting as if he’s shying out of asking his highschool date to the prom. A few seconds go by before you get it. Your face immediately flushes. 

“No- Oh my God, I’m so dumb- Sorry! My Korean’s still a little wonky, you know?”

You smile, trying to hide the embarrassment behind your laugh. He chuckles at the irony. 

“But your total would be sixty-nine. Just saying.” You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “No way.” He pulls his phone from the pocket of his khakis, showing the blue an black screen which indeed had sixty-nine calculated in for about an hour. 

“Damn.” He chuckles, nodding. “It’s a sign, right?” His eyebrows raise, flashing a cheeky grin towards you. 

“Oh, for sure~” You tease, reaching into the pouch of your purse, pulling your phone from its concealment. 

“How about this? I pay you, and ask you out?” You watch as a little hue of pink flushes his round cheeks. “Ask me out? Hey, I was the one to ask first.” You laugh, nodding. 

“Yeah but you sucked at it.” He pouts but eventually agrees. “Yeah.. okay fine.” He stands up, getting a little more confident. “So how about this Saturday? 8:30?” You nod, rising to meet his level. Your hand reaches out, handing him the correct amount of money, as well as your number written on the piece of paper. 

“Sounds like a date.” He smiles like a little kid in a candy store before making his way quickly out the door. Before you hear the lock click, he’s quick to rush back in, using the door as support. 

“Wait! What’s your name?” You giggle, leaning down to start unpacking one of your boxes. 

“It’s Y/n.” 

.

.

You let out a deep breath, setting the huge load of laundry down onto the floor, admiring your hard work. You’d gotten almost everything done in just a few hours, since it hadn’t been a huge apartment. Now, all you had to do was wash your clothes. 

You lean down, throwing your darks in first before setting the machine’s timer. 

[Error]

“What?” You groan, pressing the button again, just for the little alarm to beep at you again. 

[Error]

“Ugh!” You bend down more, examining if there had been anything wrong with the machine. Once you knew it wasn’t it’s compartments, you rise back up to meet with the annoying error signal again. 

“Okay.. try this again.” You inhale calmly, trying to remember your breathing techniques you’d learned from the free month of yoga you’d signed up for. 

“Breeeathe, Y/n. It’s just a little-”

[Error]

“Why you piece of shi!-” 

A hand comes to bang in front of your face as you fumble back at the sudden noise. Your eyes glance over to your left side, watching as the man who’d hit the machine had been reaching down to take his things out of the lower machine. He glances up, the black face mask hides any kind of emotion he might’ve shown. 

“It gets stuck sometimes. Gotta hit it.” He says monotony, lifting his charcoal gray basket to his chest. You flash a quick smile, bowing.

“Thank yo-” 

He was gone. 

.

.

Jimin lets out a sigh, throwing the bag of laundry down onto his duvet cover. Shuffling over to the computer, plops down into his gaming chair. He slides his headset over, turning on his PC. The screen flashes a few times before loading up his game. 

“Heyyyy it’s J-man!” His friends chant on the other line. He scoffs, quick to choose his gun and character. 

“Yeah yeah, don’t shit your pants, alright? I’m only gonna play one round.” They all laugh at that, echoing through the mics. “Jimin and only one round?” 

“Oh please, his girlfriends beg to differ!” The two boys snicker over the lines, making Jimin groan in frustration. One thing his stupid mates had said caught his ear though. 

“You hear about the new girl who died in Chun-dae complex?” 

“No shittt bro. Wait- Jimin isn’t that where you live?” 

Jimin’s body freezes. His mic goes silent, as he calms his labored breaths. His finger hovers over the mic button before finally replying. “Yeah.” Everyone goes crazy. 

“Oh shiiit. Bro do you know what happened?”

“Did you know her?

“Did you fuck her is the question, gentleman.” They all agree, waiting for his response. He groans, eyes lulling to the back of his head before pressing the T button. 

“Of course I didn’t know her. It was all over the news, though. Cameraman and news channels cleaned every inch of her apartment.” They all ‘ooo’ in curiosity. 

“Hah, knowing him he probably was the one to kill the poor thing.” 

“Hey, Ji-bom, that's not funny. My sister knew her.” 

Ji-sung scoffs over the mic before replying. “Oh yeah? Only ‘cause they were scissoring each other the night before, isn’t that right?” 

“Ayoo, Ji-bom chill man.” Kwang chimes in at the banter. Jimin scoffs at his idiot teamates. 

“I’m just sayin’. Fucking faggot got what she deserved, dude.” 

“Alright alright that’s enough guys-” 

“That’s enough, both of you.” Jin barks back at the two, silencing the chatroom. 

“Thank you, hyung. Anyways, Jimin isn’t there a new girl moving into her apartment?” 

“Oooo yeah. Go check her out. I heard she just moved to Korea, too.” 

“Foreigner?” Jungkook chimes in.

 Jimin lets out a sigh, questioning why he’s even friends with any these idiots. He picks up the mic piece, making himself as clear as he can before answering. 

“I’ve already seen her.” He scoffs, spinning quietly in his chair to face the wall. 

“Ain’t much.” He retorts, clicking out of the call before throwing his wireless headphones to the side. 

His eyes take a glance to the organized white board decorated meticulously with red and blue strings, the woman’s face in the center had made a smirk creep up his face. 

.

.

“Oh fuck-” You curse, watching as the little orange from your net rolls from the paper bags and down the stairs. You whines, setting the little bags to the floor, following the rolling fruit. 

“Come back here you little-” Right before you’re able to catch the run away, a soled shoe props itself ontop of the orange. Your eyes flash up, seeing the same man from earlier towering over your figure. 

“Oh- thank you..” You bow to reach the object, but he’s quicker to pick it up. The black hat had been capped over his head, revealing the flat of his glistening forehead. His milky skin gleams in the floruescent lights, as he observes your orange like an artist admiring their work of art. 

“It’s gone bad.” He comments, throwing it up the stairs as you both watch it land in the space of your bag. Perfectly sitting ontop of the thin paper container. 

“Wow..” You awe at his skills, turning around to thank him once more. His black mask is pulled down to reveal a set of large and cherry red lips. A smirk plasters his face. 

“Why didn’t you just take the elevator?” 

You take a look down, trying to remember why you had gone this was in the first place. 

“I.. Don’t really remember.” He hums, leaning against the white stair railing for support. 

“You’re the girl from room 13, right?” You nod, flashing him a bright smile. 

“Yep! I think you’re..” 

“Room 14.” 

You nod sharply, sticking your hand out. His eyebrow raises at the gesture.

“Oh right.. Korea.” You cheek flush with a red tint, as you slowly go to retract your hand. However, he’s quick to take it in his grip, giving you a firm shake. His grip had pulled you closer in proximity, your body almost flushed against his completely. You could see the little twinge of gold specks peaking from his chocolate irises.

Where had your voice gone all of a sudden??

“I..I- Uhm.. My name’s Y/n.” You watch the corner of his mouth tug upwards at your stutter. 

“Jimin.” 

.

.

It had now been the second day of moving in. You decided to go explore the complex a bit more, wanting to know its history further than what the website had briefly explained. 

Your feet click against the old marbled flooring, and echoed clatter sounds through the empty rooms. Your head swished back and forth, taking a few glances at the passing doors on your way to the elevators. 

That’s odd. 

You’d been told that this apartment was constantly having people coming in and out all the time, but you haven’t seen a single soul since the guy in the stairwell. 

You shake your head, pulling yourself from the rabbit hole of your silly thoughts. You chalk it up to a weird coincidence. You’d moved in on a Wednesday anyways. Everyone was probably at work when you had tried greeting them. 

You make your way past the set of elevator doors, pressing the button to make quick work of getting downstairs. 

“Hold it!” You hear someone call out, reaching out to pause the elevator doors form shutting completely. He sighs, bowing to thank you as much as the boxes in his arms could. He sighs, taking in deep breaths. 

“Ah, thank yo- Y/n?” Your head cranes to the side, seeing Taehyung’s boxy smile and permed, curly locks flowing in the elevator’s A/C.

“Taehyung? What are you doing back here?” He smiles, flashing you a thousand-watt grin. “I’m helping an ajuma switch rooms.” He leans down, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. 

“She said she hates hearing the little ghost girl running across her ceiling..” Chills spiral down your back like a mattress coil. He chuckles, hitting your back gently. 

“I’m kidding! Well, I mean she did say that so.. I guess I wasn’t kidding..” He shrugs, fixing the collar of his Frank Sinatra hoodie. He continues to keep the conversation going, trying to explain himself. 

“Would it help if I said she was diagnosed with schizophrenia?” Your eyebrows knit in fear. A cold rush flows through your blood. 

“Not really..” He pouts, lip peeking out to quiver. 

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to scare you, promise!” You finally let go a bit, flashing him a slight smile. 

“It’s okay.” He nods in excitement, glancing around the room awkwardly before turning back to catch your attention. “So how are you liking your new apartment?” He questions, rocking on the balls of his heels, clasping his hands behind his back. You let out a sigh, slightly nodding. 

“I like it. I wish people were a little more friendly, though..” He nods, a compassionate look plastering his face. “Yeah.. it’s got a lot of old people in it, so can’t really ask for the nicest of treatments.” You sigh, nodding at the truth. 

“But hey! It’s got a nice view, huh?” You giggle at his excitement, agreeing. “Indeed. And I’ve got one kinda nice neighbour?” He flashes you an adorable boxy smile. “Really? Who?” 

“He said his name was like- Jimin or something.” 

The whole atmosphere feezes. Taehyung’s once bouncy and energetic vibe fades, and a dark, mysterious look plasters his face. 

“Y/n..” He turns to face you, taking your hand in his gently. “Promise me you’ll stay away from him, alright?” Your eyebrow knits in confusion. 

“What? Why? He seemed okay.” He shakes his head quickly. “I don’t know much but- he’s got a not so nice reputation around here..” The elevator dings, as the doors slides open. He sighs, taking the boxes back into his arms before turning to give you one last piece of advise. 

“Just- stay away from him.”

.

.

“Come on you freaking- Ugh!” You’d been trying for the past two hours to hook up the wifi and ethernet cables so you can watch Netflix, but you lost the instructions packet while moving your things around. You groan out, throwing the screwdriver to the side in frustration. 

You rise before walking out of your apartment door, as Taehyung’s voice rings in your mind. 

“He’s got a ‘not so nice’ reputation around here..”

“Just- stay away from him.” 

Your head shakes the thoughts away as you ring the doorbell. 

A few minutes after, the door starts to unlock, cracking open to reveal a messy haired man standing in the doorway. 

“Uh- Jimin?” You ask, wondering if it had been the same man you’d see earlier. He hums, leaning on the doorframe for support. The fuzzy blanket wrapped around his small frame had made him look completely harmless. 

Which only fueled your motives. 

“Uh- Hi. We met in the stairway earlier and-”

“Ah yeah.” He yawns, face resembling one of a little baby puppy waking up from it’s naptime. “Y/n, right?” You nod, happy that someone had remembered who you were. 

“Yes, that’s me haha. Uhm so- I was wondering if you knew anything about wifi cables?” His eyebrow raises at the question, but continues on. 

“Yeah. Why?” You flash a large grin, putting on your best ‘I’m a woman, I need help, please help me’ look. 

What? 

It’s worked before. 

“Great! I’ve just been struggling with hooking up my wifi cables to the outlet and it’s really frustrating and-” He cuts you off with a chuckle. “That’s the easiest thing setting up in the apartment.” You huff, but continue. 

“Well if it’s so easy, then it won’t take you long at all.” He chuckles, arms crossing over his chest as you’d taken notice of his more aware self stealing ‘sleepy’s’ spotlight. 

“What’s in it for me?” He teases, flashing a cheesy grin. You nod, trying to think of something a man would want. 

Other than that..

“Uhm- I could make you dinner?” He thinks for a second, before opening the door all the way. 

“Alright. Just lemme grab a shirt.” 

.

.

Jimin’s eyes take a few double takes around Y/n’s apartment. The tiny couch tucked in the corner, covered in plastic wrapping and dusty blankets. The cream colored high walls stood twice his size, and really? That was the only beautiful part about living in these shitty apartments. 

“So where’s the cable?” He questions, head craning a full 180 to observe the lack of decorations. She flashes a small, embarrassed grin while pointing to a separate selected room. His fingertips graze the surface of her marble countertops. Lifting his finger, he examines the light dusk bits his skin had picked up. He’s quick to wipe the dirt on the fabric of his jeans. 

“You know, the landlord said that the internet cable would be in the mainroom but-” 

“What the fuck..” His feet stop behind yours, observing the cramped space of your bathroom. 

He watches your nails reach behind your head, scratching as you let out a small chuckle. “Yeah..” 

He scoffs, eyes taut on the little internet box shoved on a low rickety shelf above the toilet. You bend down to meet his level, waiting for his next move. “Makes sense on why they knocked off a few bucks..” You laugh nervously, eyebrows knitting together in frustration. 

He lets out a short chuckle, reaching around to pull the plug. He rises to his feet, arms crossing over his chest. “What a bunch of idiots..” He mumbles, sighing. 

You rise as well, glancing up at his frustrated figure. “Anything I can do?” He stops running his hand through his black toussels, taking a glance at your way. 

“Yeah.” He comments, bending back down to reach into his toolbag. 

“Got any beer?”

.

.

You take in deep breath, knee tapping anxiously against your hardwood floors. You’d been waiting outside the bathroom for the past ten minutes. He offer to relocate the router so it wouldn’t be a future firehazard. You happily agreed, trusting his insticts. 

He was the man, anyways. 

Your nails had almost been cleaned right off from the tightness of your jaw nervously chewing on the poor things. Every few minutes you’d heard a sigh of frustration or mumbled curse as he’d been removing the wires from inside your walls. 

“Hey, wifey,” He yelps out. You’re quick to make your way into the small bathroom. 

“Need anything?” Your jaw drops at the sight. His tanned skin had glistened with a sheet of sweat, jet-black locks greased and pulled back to sit slick against the crown of his head. A few dry and perfectly good stragles make their debut on the slick of his forehead. His white shirt you’d seen his thrown on prior to coming over was drenched making the thin material completely see-through. 

He gripes, rising to his feet once more. His large hands held the tiny router in one, with wire cutter in the other. He chuckles, watching your eyes blow as wide as cartoon characters. 

“Might wanna close that mouth if you’re not gonna put it to good use, darling.” 

That-

Didn’t help. 

You’re quick to pull yourself from the train of spiral thoughts, nodding at his commentary. He lets out a short laugh, pushing the little router into your chest. You yelp a little ‘oof’, gripping onto the device. 

“What.. am I gonna do with this?” You ask, watching him packing the things in his toolbag, slinging it over his shoulder before replying with a smirk. 

“Replace it. Piece of crap is older than my mom's kimchi recipe.” He reaches upwards, stretching the length of his elongated spine. You silently gawk at the peak of skin underneath his shirt. He twists around, giving you a little smirk. 

“Dinner ready yet?” You shake your head, pointing at the clock on the wall. He glances over, reading the time set. 

6pm.

He scoffs, throwing his bag onto the floor to lean up against the edge of your little centered table. 

“Besides,” You add, finally having found your voice once more. You watch one of his darkened eyebrows quirk at the comment. 

“I asked you to fix it.” 

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t fix it.” 

He chuckles, leaning further into the table’s edge. “Can’t fix something I don’t have.” 

You pout, crossing your arms to match his. “Why don’t you have it?” 

“You don’t get it, do you?” He asks, leaning towards your direction to lazily tower over your figure. You back down, feeling his intense aura consume yours like a little bunny caught by the big bad wolf. 

“You need a new router, the other one won’t connect to the complex’s main central.” You watch his narrowed eyes soften upon seeing your intimidated ones. He sighs, carding a hand through his greasy locks, flipping his chin up to shake the entirety of his head. 

“Hardware store’s closed for today already. You can check tomorrow. If you order it online, it’ll take up to a week to have it shipped.” You huff, annoyed with the cursed thing. 

His smirk toys with your aggravated posture. 

“I don’t supposed you have an extra one?” You plead, flashing your most intense puppy-like eyes.He smirks, shaking his head.

“Nope, sorry, Wifey.” Your eyes flash up to meet him. 

“What’s with that?” His shoulders shrug, an innocent look splays his sharp features. You groan, walking away to tug the roots of your hair in frustration. You twist around, throwing yours hands down. 

“There’s NOTHING you can do?” He lifts from counter, slowly coasting his way to stalk your frame. He towers over you, a smirk plasters his features. 

“There’s alot I can do. But for that?” His finger points to the little old device on the counter where you’d placed it. 

“No can do.” 

You take in a deep breath as he makes his way to jump onto the counter’s surface, feet swinging back and forth like a little kid. He watches your features slowly fade from hopeful to hopeless in a matter of seconds. Your eyes quicken over the area of your apartment, as if he could almost see the little gears trying to push their way to start. 

After a while of pacing and panic, you’d just settled on giving into fate. “Alright.” You sigh, slowing your paces to a stop. Your eyes glance up, seeing him propping himself back on the heels of his palms, an amused smirk paints his face. 

“Still up for dinner?” 

.

.

“Not very wifely of you, Y/n.” He comments, stuffing a face full of the hot rice you’d ordered for him. 

“I’m not trying to be wifely, Jimin.” He chuckles at that. 

You’d settled for just ordering in. So here you sat, using the flat of your old couch as a backrest as the two of you sat on the hardwood floor eating sticky rice and crunchy chicken you’d gotten from the place across from your apartment. 

“I like that.” Your head cranes, giving him a questioning look.

“Like what?” 

He grins, taking another bite of his largely portioned rice bowl.

“When you say my name.” 

You chuckle, clicking the remote to find something to entertain this kind of awkward situation. You feel him shift a bit, crossing his legs to get into a more relaxed position. 

“So,” he starts, digging in the little to-go box for the last of his rice. His voice strings with casualty and familiarity which he laced to ease this into a more comfortable atmosphere for the both of you. 

“Why this shithole?” You chuckle, reflecting back on the selection process you’d forced yourself to go through. 

“It was kind of an emergency situation. I wanted to come here for animation and graphic designs.. But, I had to move out quickly.” His eyebrow quirks at the questioning sentence. 

“Why?” 

You sigh, fingertip grazes over the ridges of your hardwood floor. Should you really be letting an almost stranger know so much about your personal affairs?

Well, you two were neighbors now. 

“Stuff just got too complicated in my house.” He nods, not wanting to pry on more of the obvious still fresh wound. His throat clears, as he begins clearing your table of the plastic wrappers and trash. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I got kicked from my own house.” You chuckle, head turning to face him. “Really? What could you possibly have done?” He laughs, leaning back against the couch’s front. 

“What? Don’t think I’d get into trouble?” Your head shakes at his question. “Frankly, you look like a cinnamon roll.” He chuckles, taking a sip of his soju. 

“Oh really?” He leans in further, the pad of his lips brushes your ear’s shell. Hot breaths roll past your heating cheeks. His voice is low and sensual now. 

“I mean- you just like blacks, right?” He chuckles at that. He reaches out, ruffling your hair between his fingers.

“You’re cute.”

.

.

“Oh fuck..” He moans out, hand palming himself over the clad of his boxer-briefs. His body, slung forward, propped up to leave the back of his chair lonely and cold. His chin tilts upwards, eyes focused on the bright of his screen. 

“Mmmm just like that, baby” He groans, free hand gripping the edge of his chair, knuckles hueing to a white tint at the pressure. He watches the woman drop the fabrics of her remaining clothing items. Her pink, basic underwear slipped from the waist of her tight skin. 

“Yeahhh” His heavy moans pant at the sight of the beautiful woman exposing herself for the camera. His palm wrapped around the base, a slow pace up and down the length of his throbbing cock. His sweaty bangs come to fly forward before sticking to the damped of his forehead. His mouth stifles sounds that would be a one-way ticket to hell.

Oh, how he wished she'd caress her breasts.  

His eyes focus on the way her hair falls out of its messy bun to cascade down the beautiful plains of her back. A small, cursive tattoo sits atop the nape of her neck. The little decoration only furthers him deeper into his state of temporary euphoria. 

The soap slides down her body, grime and grease being removed from even the most difficult crevasse. Suds and white foam paint a thin sheet over the bare of her entire frame. His hips slightly raise out of control at the sight. The red and angered tip of his cock leaks a thick string of pre-cum from his slit. 

Her hand reaches out to steady herself, making sure she doesn’t slip from the sudsy shower floor. Her long, manicured nails made him wish she’d ruin his back with them. Red scratches running up along the plains of his shoulder blades only edged him on further.

His balls tighten, warning him of his nearing end. He groans out, leaning back against his gaming chair as he lifts a leg to prop up on the desk, showing the invisible camera on his computer all of his lengthy and girthy glory. After a few minutes of slowed strokes, his balls ached with pain. 

He loved it.

His hand wrapped around his cock picks up the pace. Body practically leaping from his seat. 

“Fuck!” He moans out, lips dropping to form an O-shape as a string of hot cum shoots onto the towel that he’d held to his tip right before blowing his load.

He clicks a few buttons, watching as the camera zooms in at the perfect time. She’d finished up, exiting the shower to wrap a warm and fuzzy looking lengthy towel around her fitted body. The steam had fogged the glass mirror above the sink, but the camera still stood clear as fresh water. 

The cameraman had cleverly sprung for the fog-avoidant cameras.

He, being the cameraman..

.

.

You reach over, answering the incoming call that had rung for the past few seconds. You hug the portion of your towel to your body, clinging it as to not accidentally flash a single soul. An all-too-cheery voice answers. 

“Y/n! So, I was thinking- We never really decided on a place to eat at.” He pouts, a teasing tone peaks his expressions. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could see the child-like boxy smile he’d always sport. 

You decide to have a little fun with your new found friend. “I’m sorry- Who’s this?” You could hear the hurt in his voice. 

“It’s Taehyung.. Already forgot about me, huh?” You giggle, throwing the phone onto your bed after pressing the speaker button. 

“I’m playing with you Taehyung.” He huffs. “Not very funny of a joke, ma’am.” He retorts, making you snicker at the nickname. 

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry Taehyung-ie. How about I make it up to you?” His voice cheers up quickly, amusement peaking his interests.

“And how would you do that, milady?” His voice sports a gentleman-y, british accent as if he’d been just brought out of a shakespeare play. 

You throw on a quick T-shirt before sprawling out on your bed. “Well, how about coming over tonight? I could make us some coffees.. Or I’ve got wine too.” He sucks in a breath, a saddened tone controls his voice. 

“Sorry, can’t tonight. Dad’s got me working extra hours all over Seoul, I’m not even home yet.” You pout, toying with your little anxiety ring you’d gotten from a friend back home. 

“Oh, okay then.” You’re quick to flip over, getting into a more comfortable position on your back. You stare up at the ceiling while talking with your only friend. 

“So, how is work?” Before you get a response you hear a loud crash on the other end. 

“Shit- I have to go, Y/n. Bye!”

“Oh oka-” 

He ends the call.

You sigh, rolling back and forth on the surface of your bed. You’d still been on Chicago’s clock, so you were wide awake right now. Your eyes roll at the time blinking on your nightstand’s alarm clock. 

12:39AM.

You needed to get to sleep. You KNEW you needed to get to sleep. But, your body had different plans. You decide to roll yourself out of bed, making your way to the little walk in closet right before the front door. You slide on your little fuzzy boots and a pair of sweatpants before walking out the door. 

“Oh!” You turn around, seeing Jimin leaning outside of his front door to drop off the trash in the hallway. You run up, catching him before he has the chance to slip back into his dungeon. 

“Hey-” You call, flashing him a warm smile. 

He slams the door in your face. 

Your frown reappears, sighing. 

What was everyone’s problem with you?

You were about to continue on your journey for late night convenient store snacks, but something inside of you had irked to get a hi from him still. So, you knock on his door. 

No answer. 

“Come on, Jimin. I know you’re in there!” You call out, banging on his door now. After a few minutes and a rude comment from a neighbor telling you in a very passive way to ‘shut up’ he’d finally opened the door. You push right through, hands on your hips to signal off confidence. 

“Y/n what do you-”

“Why didn’t you say hello back?” He shakes his head, not following. 

“What do you mean-” 

“I just said hi to you, and you slammed the door in my face!” He chuckles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“I just woke up.” Somehow, you don’t believe that. 

Your stupid self decides to rummage through his things. 

“Oh really?” You walk yourself over to his desk and gaming chair, feeling the monitor’s heat. “Hmm, computer’s still warm.” You comment, accidentally bumping the mouse with your wrist. The screen lights up, as your face drains with color. 

A bunch of women barely dressed on a leopard-print bed, hands rubbing and touching all over each other while some had fully been going down on one another. 

You could hear a dark chuckle in Jimin’s voice. A body comes up behind yours, towering your frame from backing.

“Caught me.” He whispers,fingertips trailing up the skin of your arms. You flinch, backing away from his touches as he lets out a laugh. “What? Aw, I’m just having a little fun with you.” He flashes you a cheeky wink as you try and calm your beating heart. 

“I– Sorry. I-I’ll just leave now-” He chuckles, opening the door wide. As you make your way through the exit, he leaves a few words to trail in your ears.

.

.

For the past few days you’d been bickering with Taehyung over where to go. Since you both were in moving saving mode, you decided to just cook up a nice dinner and watch a movie instead. 

You’re almost done putting the final touches on the dessert pie until you heard the doorbell ring. Walking past, you reach down to fluff a few pillows on your couch before answering. You crack the door open, a wide smile plastered onto your face until you’d seen who was behind it. 

“You..” He chuckles. 

“Me.” 

Franky you’d been avoiding Jimin for the past two days. Ever since your jet-lagged brain decided it was a good idea to march into his apartment and check out his browsing history, things had been pretty awkward between the two of you. 

Well, just for you. 

“I’ve got something.” He teases, holding his hands behind his back. You nod, keeping him outside of the door. “Uhm can it wait ‘til later? I’m kinda busy..” He pushes past your shoulders before you could even protest. 

“Payback, wifey.” A smirk tugs the corner of his lips as he holds out the tiny box on front of you. 

“Take a guess.” 

You sigh, shrugging. “I don’t know.” 

“That’s the whole point of taking a guess. You’re really bad at this game.” He chuckles, swinging the little box in his grasp. 

“I don’t know, Jimin.” He groans, pouting. “You’re no fun.” He unboxes the object, holding it out to show you. 

“I still don’t get what it is.” He shakes his head, obviously annoyed by your adituttde. 

“Fine, then I guess you don’t need the router.” Your eyes widen. 

“Wait!” You reach out to pause his actions, making him smirk. “Oh now you answer me.” He chuckles, setting the little device on your kitchen counter. 

His eyes take a glance to the kitchen table, feasting upon the delicious, mouth-watering platters and bowls filled with some of his favorites. 

“Ah, good! You remembered our deal.” Your eyes look at the food, then back to him to quickly shake your head. 

“Uh no- actually-”

Ding.

Dong.

.

.

Jimin’s eyebrow quirks at the revealment of the guy behind your apartment door. Taehyung’s bright and boxy smile soon drops as his eyes land upon the strange man in your livingroom. The newly dyed locks tinted with colors of the sky had shifted from their styled position. 

“Who’s this?” Taehyung comments, questioning the new man. Jimin’s lips tug more into a smirk at his confusion. 

“Her cousin.” Jimin retorts, watching as you flash him a ‘what?!’ look. Taehyung’s eyebrows knit in confusion as Jimin’s quick to correct himself with a light chuckle.

“Distant.” 

You let out a nervous chuckle at his words. 

Shit.

.

.

The dinner table felt like a couffin. Suffocating and awkwardly tight. Hadn’t helped that your little circular table could barely fit two people, much less three.You had tried to kick him out, really you did. But he had been too stubborn, pulling up his own make shift seat of your lidded trash can to support on. The smug and tight grin on Jimin’s lips had made your jaw clench with annoyance. Taehyung’s quick to clear the thick air, along with his throat. 

“So, Y/n. How do you feel about sea animals?” He smiles, trying to ignore the elephant in the room. 

Your mouth falls open to answer, but the slick circles drawn against your thigh halts you.. You take a glance over, Jimin on the sidelines taking a large bite of his pork and rice, completely unfazed by the situation. The tense of his right arm doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand slipped up the space of your dress, caressing your knee before rising his touch higher. 

Your eyes flash back to Taehyung’s who had a questioning look. You let out a loud chuckle, trying to shift your leg away from Jimin’s fingers as your answer. 

“Love ‘em.” You flash him a quick smile. He returns the little expression, a relaxed ease sets upon him. 

You? Not so much. 

“Well what about getting a little wet?” Taehyung quirks, leaning a little closer to make his voice clear. 

Jimin’s fork swirls around the surface of his plate, a bored expression plasters his features as he cuts in. “Easy.” You feel the tips of his fingers drag along the heat of your skin, resting on the outers of your underwear. His index finger presses slightly against your soaking panties, your lips fall to form a small O-shape. Thighs squeezing together at the sensation. 

“I don’t think she minds getting wet.” Jimin comments, an unamused expression toys his features as he takes a sip of his soju. You nod, shifting slightly in your seat, which in turn had made Jimin’s touch fall further in the gap of your thighs. His fingertips tease your clothed heat, a silent moan rumbles from the deep of your chest. 

“Perfect!” He turns his reach into his pocket, pulling out two pieces of thick paper. “The new aquarium in Incheon just opened. I was hoping you and I could maybe go tomorrow?” You nod, trying your best to stay silent. Jimin’s touch lingers on the outerparts of your heat, silently commanding you to beg him. 

You weren’t. 

Your grin follows the sweet tone in your voice you’d forced yourself to keep, even though everything in your body had been screaming to do quite the opposite. 

“So Taehyung,” Jimin comments, sliding the fabrics of your underwear to the side, carding one finger through your slick folds teasingly. Taehyung’s head tilts, smiling friendly even though he’d been quite disappointed in Jimin’s unannounced presence. 

“Yeah?” He questions. Jimin shifts, crossing one leg over the other to make himself appear smaller. 

Though, his actions had been quite the opposite. 

“How’d you two lovebirds meet?” He asks, quietly catching the way your chest tightens as his finger teases your entrance, coating the digit in your juices. A smirk presses his lips. 

Taehyung chuckles, a shy glance directed to you. “Well, here actually.” Jimin faints a forced interested look, nodding at the stupid interaction. 

“Yeah, my dad had hired me for his moving service for the summer before I go back to college so I could make some more money. I had helped her move in, then shot my shot.” You fight back a moan, letting out a sharp breath as he inserted the length of his finger past your velvet walls. Your hands reach out, one catching on Jimin’s forearm to steady yourself. Silently begging for him to stop so you could enjoy your date with Taehyung. 

Jimin nods, almost making your loose it when his finger starts to pump in and out of you at a teasingly slow rate. His eyes narrowed, getting bored with Taehyung’s little story. 

“Hah, how funny.”Though his words matched his features, his tone had not. A cold and hardly-entertained looks paces his face. 

Taehyung mentally groans at Jimin’s pulsing bicep. He stands, pushing hismelf away from the table with force. You startle, eyebrows meeting in concern. 

“Taehyung what’s-” 

“You know, it’s kind of common courtesy not to let your neighbor finger fuck you while you’re on a date with another guy.” Jimin smirks at his words, releasing you in his grip, watching as you rise to meet Taehyung’s level. 

“Y-You kne-” 

"Of course I fucking knew, Y/n. I helped him install his gaming setup when he moved in.” Your head cranes to Jimin, seeing the cocky grin upon his features. Turning back, your eyes meet Taehyung’s. His burned with anger and fury. 

“Taehyung I’m so sorry-” He chuckles, scoffing with a harsh tone. 

“My thing isn’t that he was groping you on our date, Y/n. It’s the fact that you lied to me.” Your heart aches at his words. Your feet close the space between you and him, but he backs away. 

“Don’t, Y/n. And you.” His eyes narrow to Jimin who’d shifted to your seat to lean back. Leg crossed over the other, while his shiny finger had been popped into the crease of his mouth. Taehyung’s hands fist at the sight. 

“Dick move, Jimin.” 

With that, Taehyung storms out. You tried following him down the hall, but he had been too fast for your7-inch heels to catch up with. You let out a silently breath, leaning up against your front door. 

Your eyes land crack open to land upon Jimin’s laxed figure. He’d risen to lean up against the back of your couch, arms crossing his chest. He shakes his head, smirking. 

“Not cool, Y/n.” Your fists clench at his cocky tone. 

“Get out.” You command, swinging the door open to lead him. He shakes his head, making his way to the door, walking out. 

.

.

“Over here!” You wave, signaling your location through this messy crowd. He makes a beeline to your table before sitting down quietly. A silence had drawn out for far too long. You take notice in the tanned, unusual overcoat he’d thrown over his white button up and navy blue suit pants. Black loafers to compliment his whole attire. 

“Thanks for meeting with me..” You let out a deep breath, trying to break the awkward silence between the two of you. He nods, eyes glancing around the restaurant to look anywhere but your pleading self. 

“You’ve got a probem with lying, Y/n.” He comments coldly. You could do nothing but nod, agreeing with his harsh but true words. 

‘I know.. Taehyung I’m so sorry for lying to you.” You lean forwards, trying to catch his gaze. He’d done a pretty good job of ignoring you for the past few weeks. 27 missed calls and 14 text messages later, he’d finally caved in and agreed to meet you at the little cafe you’d originally planned to meet at for your first date. 

His arms fold across his chest,, leaning back to entertain your guilt. “Go on.” 

Your fingers clench around the mug, toying with the warmed handle from the hot joe inside. “I shouldn’t have lied to you about him being my cousin. It was stupid, anyways.” You let out a short chuckle, feeling the atmosphere soften just a bit. 

“Indeed.” He still holds onto his firm and upset composure. You push the basket of break rolls to his side, a silent peace offering sits in front of him. 

“I do like you, Taehyung. You’re really sweet, and kind and always so considerate of others-” He chuckles, scoffing at your generic sayings. 

“Sounds more like a breakup rehearsal than an apology.” You nod, hitting your head at the stupid comments. 

“What I’m getting at is; I never should’ve let Jimin do any of that. He was honestly just there to replace my wifi router, swear!” He leans forward, studying your features for any sign of a lie. When he finds none, he returns to his slouched posture taking a sip from his wine glass he’d ordered. 

“Then why did you?” His question throws you off. 

Why did you let him touch you like that? Get away with it…

 Let it go so far.

Taehyung scoffs at your silence. His feet shift, eyebrows raised with sarcasm. His tone lowers, mumbling into the bottom of his wine glass. “Silence of the lamb.” 

You sigh, banging your head gently onto the tale before raising up. He takes pity on yourself, deciding to ease you. 

“Do you like him?” Your head shakes. 

“Liar.” 

“I’m not lying!” 

“Then tell me,” He leans closer, closing the large, table-sized gap between the two of you. 

"Would you have let me do that then?” Your pussy clenches at the thought, Taehyung’s slender fingers thrusting themselves deep against your slick walls, hand cupped over your mouth to shut you up from the ears of others.

Your lips fall flat. Eyes looking at Taehyung, imaging him doing all of those things, 

Yet, when you’re thinking of moaning his name, all you can hear is..

“Jimin.” He states coldly, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. If green was jealousy’s color, he’d been a fucking broccoli stalk.

You shake your head, flushing the stupid thoughts from your mind. Your hand reaches out, eyes shading darker to his narrowed ones. You lean closer, brushes of hot air roll past his cheek onto the shell of his ear. 

“I want you.”

.

.

His dark chuckle stripes the atmosphere from the sexy and alluring scene you’d tried to play. He toys back, giving barely any attention to your neediness. 

“Oh really?” You nod, hand reaching down to palm at the forming tent between his thighs. His lips roll out a soft grunt at the touch. 

“How much.” He demands, warm hands coming to rub on the balls of your knees. Your lips brush the outer of his reddened ear, tongue poking the sensitive. You moan, sending the thin skin vibrating in waves. 

“So badly.” 

.

.

“Oh fuck-” You moan out, hands gripping onto the skin of his back for a false safety. Nails digging and scratching at the rededened the bare complexion. Your tongue grazes his lips, before he takes you in his reach to swallow yourself whole. Hands roaming each other like wild animals in some kind of feral heat. The headboard claps against the wall’s poor dimensions, securing the dents and markings that were sure to follow tomorrow’s awakening. His voice deepens with each passing, passionate second. 

“Shit!” His lips fall to a large O-shape, uncontrollably snapping his hips into yours. His large frame towers over yours, leaning down to plant heavily sloppy kisses to the base of your neck. 

“Mmm, gonna cum-” His raspy voice thickens, becoming easily weary of his nearing climax. You could feel the way his throbbing cock pulses in the depths of you, as yourself had been efforting the same pulse around his meaty cock. 

“Oh God-” You head falls back, arms catching yourself onto his neck to make sure you remain unscathed. Your legs wrapped around his waist, sucking his girth into yourself to your limit. His large banded arms coil around your smaller frame, pulling your body flushed against his. A few gruff and loud moans here to there, shared between the two of you. Soon, you’d felt the rushing wave of pure ecstasy coarse through your frame. His sweaty form drops onto the length of you, heavy pants exile his chest from the intense session. You glance down, seeing the blonde and greasy locks blocking his features. 

“Jimin!?”

.

.

Your body jolts itself awake, propping up like a doll with a metal pole as its spine. Your chest heaves with heaviness and anxiety as shock flushes your system from its previous ecstatic state. You find your hand slunk down into the space of your mini shorts, fingers pressed against your aching bud. Memories from the day’s events had coarse your mind like a taunting, awaiting jack-in-the-box. 

He pushes your body away from his own, hands releasing the tight grip you’d formed around his hardened length. Your frame falls backwards, catching itself right before impact. He stands, a furious aura surrounds his whole once bright and soft figure. 

“Good-bye, Y/n.” 

You groan, rolling over to reach for the pillow, suffocating yourself with the plush object. You head spins with uncertainty. You felt like shit. 

Your feet land on the floor, guiding you unconsciously to the self-indulgent kitchen you’d stocked. The darkness that floods your apartment had been good for keeping to yourself, not having to worry about anything else you had to get done, until you wake up for work in a few hours. 

“Morning.” A sudden voice becks out from the silence. You’re quick to land your grip on a steak knife from the counter, waving it blindly in the abyss for protection. His chuckle makes your heaty drop into your stomach. 

“Put that away before you hurt yourself, wifey.” You groan, tossing the sharp object into the sink, reaching out to find the light switch. His cocky smile makes your teeth grind with frustration. 

“How the hell did you get into my apartment?” You scoff, watching as he points his index finger to the wide open door. 

“You left it unlocked.” Your arms cross, a narrowing look paints your tired and gaunt features. His wide and torturous smile makes your stomach bubble. 

“Enjoy your sleep?” He questions, reaching over to put the bowl of cereal he’d made himself into the left side of your sink. 

“Did, until you came.” He chuckles, stalking your figure before he’s standing right infront of you. “Really? Cause it looked like you were wide awake before I even got here.” Scoffing, you push at his chest making him stumble back a bit to catch himself. 

“Go home, Jimin.” You make your way to the fridge to place the milk back on the shelf. He follows, hoping up onto your counter like a kid. 

“Don’t wanna.” You huff, slamming the cabinet. 

“Go. Home.” You repeat, already tired of his shinannigains. He leans closer, meeting your gaze. 

“I. Don’t. Want. To.” 

“Wasn’t. A. Question.” You retort, making him smirk. 

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” Your eyes lull to the back of your head at his shameless attempt. 

“And you’d be really cute with this knife shoved in your thick head.” He laughs, raising an eyebrow up in questioning. 

“So you think I’m cute?”

You scoff, eyes rolling. “Not in the slightest.” He hums, tilting his head before following you into your room. 

“But you said really, which means that I was just cute before. So therefore, you think I’m cute.” You plop down on your bed, body feeling extremely heavy from your sleep-deprived state. 

“Not listening, I’m sleeping.” He chuckles, scooting his way over to your side of the bed to lay next to you. His arm rests under his head for support. 

A few moments of silence flows by before he continues. “Didn’t know you were such a daredevil.” You sit up, giving him a stern look. 

“I’m not.” 

He chuckles, shrugging. “Really? Cause letting a stranger finger you while you’re on a date sure sounds like something a daredevil would do.” Your eyes roll, pushing his frame away with the soles of your feet. 

“Get out of here, Jimin. Why did you even come in the first place?” He smirks, walking around to the side of your bed, kneeling in front of your pillow cover face that’d been hanging off your bed’s edge. 

“Why, I heard my name of course.” Your eyebrow quirks at his words. “Oh yeah? Who called you.”

A devilish grin toys the corner of his lips. He lowers his voice to a deep tone, much like the one you’d heard earlier in your little escapade-like dream. 

“You did.” You let out a sharp chuckle. “Me?” He nods, making the fits of laughters wash in waves even more. Once you’ve settled down, you can clear the air. 

“Hate to break it to ya loverboy, but I was sleeping if you couldn’t already tell.” 

He lowers himself to meet your level once more. Hands slid into the fronts of his jean pockets, blonde locks falling to the sides of his face to frame his features perfectly. 

“I’m aware.” 

Your eyes narrow, not following in his little innuendos. He reads your expression, and decided to elaborate some more. 

“Well, these were more along the lines of ‘Jimin’.” He mocks a woman high-pitched moan, head thrown back to add a dramatically erotic effect. 

“Yeah right, like I did anything like tha-” 

“Oh Jimin! Oh fuck ah- Mmm, gonna cum!..” Your eyes widen like saucers at the little sounds. Eyes training upon the little cellphone held in his hands, showing you the recorded melody. His smirk never faulters from amusement of you. 

“You were saying?” 

Your body froze. That had for sure been your voice. Hell, it even showed a sliver of your bedroom for a second. You had been sprawled out on your bed, covers thrown off as your hand had been stuffed into the lining of your underwear. Thighs trembling to signal your nearing climax. 

You. Were. Mortified. 

“I- Well that- My dog-” The longer you’d tried to come up with an excuse, the stupider you sounded. He chuckles, tilting his head back while holding his stomach. 

“Your dog?” His eyes well into little crescent shaped moons, irises disappearing from sight. 

“The only bitch in heat my dear, is you.” You groan, reminding yourself later to go jump off Seoul’s largest bridge. 

“I called out your name,” He starts, sitting on the edge of the bed to slide his phone back into his pocket. He chuckles, remembering your sleep-induced reaction. 

“But you just got louder.” You grab the nearest pillow and start suffocating yourself. He laughs, prying the beautiful death away from your grasp. 

“Hey, you saw my porn collection.” He teases, poking at your side to try and get you to laugh this off like friends would. 

“Yeah, but it’s not me!” His body stiffens at the words. Lowering his tone, he mumbles.

“It might.” 

You sigh, wanting the earth to swallow you whole. You take the pillow from his grip, digging your face into the soft plush once more. “Just let me die.” He smiles, tugging the pillow from you once more. 

“Nah, I’m not into that necrophilia shit.” You huff, pulling your knees up to hide your face in. He leans closer, brushing a few strands of  hair from your vision. 

“Guess this means we’re even now, huh?” You chuckle along with him, cheeks still burning with embarrassment. 

“Was quite a unique sight.” He sighs, taking the pillow to tuck it under his clasped arms. Leaning back, he supports his weight against your headboard while continuing. 

“Never seen a girl masturbate to me.” You scoff, not believing that for a damn second. “Yeah right.” His torso twists to face you, giggling. 

“It’s true.” 

“No girlfriend?” 

He shakes his head. “They just wanted sex. Nothing else.” You shift, not really knowing what to respond to that. 

“They also thought I was weird..” Your head cranes, tilting to listen better. “Why?” 

His hands fidget between the thick of his thighs, shrugging. “I liked taking photos.” You smile, laughing. 

“Everybody does. Photography’s a very popular hobby nowadays-”

“Of them.” 

“Well yeah, you like to remember the fun times you had with loved ones-”

“Naked.” 

Yeah, you had no counter for that one. 

He chuckles, a tint of red flushes his cheeks. “See? You think it’s weird too.” Your head hesitantly shakes, denying it. 

“No- It’s just- I wasn’t expecting it.” He sighs, leaning his head back against your headboard. “I just think that women’s bodies are exquisite.” You chuckle, nudging his arm. 

“Large word for a small guy.” His eyes flash towards yours, suddenly not so bright eyed and puppy-like. 

“Think I’m small?”

You nod. “You’re not that big of a guy. Taehyung’s much larger-” He’s quiet to flip you on your stomach, sitting atop your lower back while holding your arm behind yourself. 

“Can still do this, though.” He smirks. 

“Yah! Get off me!” He chuckles, leaning down to brush the pads of his lips to your skin, ghosting your heated body. 

“No.” 

“Yaaaah Jimin, my baaack!” You groan, muffling your noises into the pillow below you. A smile creeps his lips, before he’s rising off from you. You groan, sitting up to speak. 

“Yah, that really hurt du- Jimin?” As quick as he’d left, he’s right back at the end of your bed, This time, sporting an old polaroid in his right hand. Your eyebrows raise in confusion. 

“What’s that for?” He smirks, edging himself closer to you on the bed. His proximity makes you fall back onto the bed as he towers your frame, camera still firmly held in his hands. 

“Mind being my model?” You laugh, hands pressing at his chest as he leans back to sit atop your lap. 

“For?” 

His eyes glance up, taking a peak from filling his camera with film. His blonde locks fall loosely infront of his vision, making the scene so much more intense.

“Me.” 

“Well of course you, idiot.” He smiles, wiping the camera lens with the thin of his black T-shirt, lifting the material up to give you a little peak of his softly defined abs. 

“I don’t need you jacking off to them.” He quirks, taking a glance to look back up to you. “You jacked off to me.” Your mouth falls to answer, but then shuts. He smirks, taking your silence as a win. 

“Just lift your top a bit.” He teases, holding the camera up to his face, peaking out the little lens. You laugh, bucking your hips up to try and nudge him off of your small frame. 

“Oh come on, Y/n. I feel violated.” He pouts, lip-quivering in a fake pained expression. 

“What? How so.” He whines, shifting on your lap like a little kid. 

“You violated my privacy. Barged into my apartment, and went through my laptop. Sexual harassment at it’s finest.” You scoff, eyes rolling at his stupid reasoning. 

“Your laptop was already on. And I’ve never sexually harassed you. If anything, that shit you pulled at the dinner table was sexual harassment.” He smiles, using his free finger to tilt your head to the side, getting a better angle. 

“Part your lips.” 

“Jimin I’m not doing this.” 

“Open your mouth or I’m gonna tie you to this bed and slip a vibrator into your panties. And take pictures of that instead.” Your eyes widen at his choice of words, suddenly feeling the room heat from his proximate figure sat atop you. 

He smirks, moving a few strands from your vision, while positioning your hair a bit to get a nice shot. Your mouth had opened slightly from shock, which he took as a chance to snap a little picture. 

“Got it.” He smiles, hiding the little sheet of film under the nearest pillow. 

“I’m pretty sure this is sexual harassment.” 

He chuckles, reloading for another shot. “Not harassment if you’re enjoying it.” 

“Now who made up that rule?” A devilish smile crack his straightened lips.

“I did.”

He reaches down, flashing you to the little polaroid picture from a few seconds ago. 

“Wow..” You gawk, admiring the beautiful position he’d moved you to. Pieces of your messy hair falls into your forehead, framing your face perfectly. The lack of light plus his flash had made this simple photo look like a work of art. 

“Natural beauty.” He picks up the camera once more, pulling the picture away to get another shot. 

“Okay you’ve had your fu-” 

“I think you’d look better tied up.” He giggles, scooting off of your body to sit on the side. He stands, walking to your closet to rummage through your things. 

“Hey, I didn’t give you-” 

“Perfect!” He holds out a silky tie that you’d forgotten to give back to your ex. The silky red material dangles loosely in his grip as he makes his way over to set himself next to your laid out figure. 

“Hands?” 

Your arms reach out, giving full access to whatever he wanted of you. The motion makes him smile, patting your head. 

“Good girl.” 

“Jimin it’s almost morning-” His eyes glance towards you, previously focused on binding your hands together. “So?” 

“So- I need you to let me up.” He chuckles, motioning down to your figure.

“I’m not holding you down.” 

He’s right. You’d been giving him permission to do all of this. You were the one who didn’t want it to secretly end. 

He reaches up, loosely tying your hands above your head to bind them to your grid headboard. He picks up his camera from off the side once more, holding it up to his face to angle it down your way. 

“Smile for me.” You shake your head, not being in the mood. 

“Smile.” 

He reaches down, tickling at your side torturously. Your head throws back, mouth popping wide open at the giddy sensation. One flash of his camera later, he throws the little old device to the side. 

“You’ve got an adorable smile.” He coos, hovering over your locked in figure. A rosy tint paints your cheeks. 

“Thanks..” 

His lips lower, bushing the soft skin of your forehead before dragging the back down a bit, mumbling something sweet. 

“Mine.” 

.

.

The smell of freshly baked bread waffs through your apartment. Your counters had been filled with sweet and gooey treats. Your whole upperhalf had been dusted heavily with flour and egg whites. Though it had taken almost 5 hours, you’d finally baked all of the necessary goodies you needed. 

You walk yourself through all of the desserts, making sure you hadn’t missed a single thing. “Pudding, cherry pie, hotteoks, creme brulee..” You sigh in satisfaction, admiring all of your hard work. 

You glance down, seeing your messy and caked in self. A chuckle exiles past your lips. Making your way to the bathroom, you’d just taken off your sweater before hearing the doorbell sound off. 

Walking over, you try fixing your hair best as you could before opening the door. 

“Welcome.” You swing the door wide, allowing the man to enter. 

“Thank you.” He takes in a deep breath, sighing at the delectable aroma. You take his coat, hanging it on the rack before leading him to the dining table. 

“Smells amazing.” You smile, silently patting yourself on the back for his commentary. 

“This way. I- Didn’t know what you preferred, so I just made all of them..?” He chuckles, making his way through your living room to sit upon the balcony’s patio. You’re quick to bring the treats out, only taking two round trips before settling yourself in the seat across from him. His dark button up, and white, creamish dress pants had made him look even more elegant than ever. 

“So, how's the progress going?” He questions, as you sigh in relief. 

‘It’s going great. The product’s development is really coming along. I could even move the release date up a month.” He smiles, watching as your delicate hands cut a few slices of the pie for the two of you. His large hand comes to cover yours, stopping your motions gently. 

“Y/n.. You didn’t have to make all of this. I would’ve been fine with cough drops for all I care.” You giggle,  shaking your head. 

“You’ve been a huge stepping stone in getting my stuff out there… I owe you.” He smiles, his face coming to close the distance between the two of you. His breath mixes with your own, a different kind of feeling settles over the scene. 

His voice lowers, but a bare whisper. “Y/n..” 

A brightly lit flash of light separates the two of you quickly. “Annnddd, got it. See Y/n? Told you you’re photogenic.” Jimin’s face scrunches at the picture. “Mmm, you bro? Not so much.” 

“Jimin!” You gripe, standing to push him out of your apartment. 

“What? Just trying to capture nature’s beauties.” He leans to the side, sending your co-worker a narrowed glance. “And.. uglies.” 

“Jimin, I’m in the middle of something!” Your voice lowered so he couldn’t hear. A deep chuckle exiles his chest. A hand places itself upon your shoulder, making Jimin’s fist clench in silent anger. The man’s hand extends outwards, offering Jimin a passive shake. 

“I’m Namjoon.” Jimin smirks, taking his hand in a firm shake. 

“Nice to meet you.” You sigh, rubbing your temples from frustration. 

“Jimin could you please just leave? I’ve got to discuss some things with Namjoon.” Jimin huffs silently, quirking his eyebrows. 

“Nah, Think I’ll stay.” He plops onto your couch, crossing one leg over the other in a relaxed position. You were about to protest but a beep cuts you off. 

“Ah, sorry Y/n. It’s Eleana, I’ve gotta get going.” He’s quick to make his way to the door, grabbing his trench coat from the rack. He throws it over his figure. 

“Wait- Who’s Eleana?” You call out, making your way over to his spot. He fixes the collar of his button up, tightening his tie. 

“She’s with High Lines. She’s our rep, but the bidders aren’t biting so she’s calling me in to sweet talk ‘em.” He calls out, making his way quickly down the hallway before turning around. 

“Thanks for the pie!” 

You wave, smiling brightly as he leaves. Once he’s completely out of sight, you slam the door, huffing from frustration. 

“Jeez, Y/n. So desperate.” He teases, taking a bite from the apple displayed in the bowl set on your counter. You turn around, ears -would be- steaming from anger. 

“I am NOT desperate!” He leans back from your volume, covering his ears to shield them from your anger. 

“I was trying to have a nice dinner with a coworker-” 

“Who you wanna fuck.” 

“And eat some pie with him-”

“Who you wanna fuck.” 

“And then a stupid photography student had to barge in and ruin my damn day!” 

He smirks, dragging out his words. “Who you want to fuck.” 

Your fists clench at your sides, face reddening from fury. You reach over for the throw pillow, putting its name to good use. He’s quick to dodge, laughing at your sad attempt. 

“And what’s with you, huh!? One minute you’re completely avoiding me and the next you’re trying to take nude photos of me?!” He goes silent, slowly reaching forwards to take a bite of one of the hotteok you'd made. 

“Been deciding.” He comments, licking his thumb clean of the chocolate. 

“On what.” You gripe, going to clean up the kitchen in anger. He hops off the counter, placing himself behind, gently slowly moving your movements to a halt before he has his hands on each side of your hips. His front gently presses against your back, his warm breath coming to creep up behind your ear like a little kid on halloween. 

“On you.” 

You turn to turn around to face him, but his hands steady your hips preventing you. Your head lulls back, originally trying to talk to him but he’d taken the opportunity to press wet kisses to the side of your neck. Your lips part, a soft moan escapes into the thin air. His hands follow the lines of your body, reaching forwards to cup your breasts. 

“You smell like cookies.” He whispers, making you laugh. 

“Gee, I wonder why?” He chuckles, twisting your body around to press flush against his. You two had been in the most intimate embrace of a lifetime. Your arms coiled around his neck, his hands settled back to steady your hips. His forehead nudges closer, pressing against your to tease your lips with his breath. 

Your voice softens, “That tickles..” He smiles, back the two of you into the counter. “Mmm, ticklish?” He wraps his arms around your thighs, lifting you up in one swoop to set you down on the counter. He plants himself between your widened legs, hands resting on the small of your waist. 

“Have you no memory of last night?” His head tilts, faking a confused expression. “Mmmm, remind me.” You laugh, going to unwrap your arms from his but he’s swift to scoop you up bridal style. 

“Or, shall I remind you.” 

.

.

Your pushed back into the soft plush of your bedsheets. The cream colored fabrics jumping in alignment with your bounce when pressure is applied. His body stalks yours, leaning over you like a falling Jenga tower.

"Jimin are we-" His finger comes to press against your lips, quieting your rambling mouth.

"Tell me right now that you don't want to fuck me. If you don't, then shut the fuck up kindly, wifey."

Your arms fall to your sides. You were going to protest, push him off of you and kick him out of your apartment never to be seen again but-

You did want him to stay.

Your head nods softly, earning him a small grin. His hands snake up your body, lips pressing against you neck in a slowed and hushed manor. Fingertips graze the hem of your cropped tee. His chest releases a lowered grunt, slipping the thin fabric over your head before throwing it somewhere across the room.

His fingers trail along the lace of your brassiere. A smile paints his lower face at the sight. "Pretty." Suddenly, his expression switches. From loving and soft, to demanding and hard.

"Were you planning on fucking that Nam-shoe guy?" You chuckle at his insult, hands cupping both sides of his cheeks.

"Honestly? A little." His hands grip onto the lace fabric, ripping the expensive-looking material from your warmed body.

You let out a short yelp, hands flying to cover yourself. He groans, pulling your hands away.

"Don't you fucking even try, baby." He smirks, leaning his head down to your level. His soft breaths roll across the skin of your cheek, landing on your ears. "Wearing these tight ass jeans, and a shirt that wouldn't even fit a fucking baby doll? You're just asking for it."

You nod, flashing him some cute pleading eyes. "I am asking." He lets out a dark chuckle, hands coming to pinch lightly at your exposed nipples. Your head lulls back, groaning at the sudden touch.

"I don't need asking. I want you begging."

Hands gripping the bottom of your thighs, he pulls your your body down until the hardened outline of his jeans had been pressed firmly against your aching core.

his arms lock into place, trapping you in his grip.

"What do you say?"

Your throat feels dry. However, your panties had become more than soaked through. You shouldn't do this. You really shouldn't. You'd already fucked up with Taehyung, and now with Namjoon? This man has caused you nothing but trouble.

Yet, you still couldn't help the words that seemingly fall from your lips so easily.

"Please."

________________________

PART TWO WILL BE RELEASED ASAP.

[somethinginworl]

He would not fucking say that - Kirby franchise edition (Results)

Well! Seems like a lot of people had a lot to say about mischaracterized Kirby characters, as a matter of fact, there were a whooping 57 entries! Well, let’s get going with them, shall we? Just,,, beware that this is a LOOONG post.

Haltmann

The dude 100% did fucked up shit and needs to be held accountable but people seem to so easily forget the degree he was influenced/corrupted by Star Dream. I don't understand why people hate Haltmann and love Star Dream who is arguably the actual reason HWC started colonizing and draining planets. Also the fact that Haltmann isn't conventionally attractive to the majority of the fandom makes him less sympathetic ig?? But the dude is a grieving father who made mistakes that sent him down a spiral into being corrupted and then deleted by a heartless machine. I can't help but pity him

Prince Fluff

Go on ao3. Look in his tag on tumblr. He exists only to be Kirby or Shadow Kirby's love interest most of the time, with no personality of his own.

He barely gets recognized anymore, and if he does, it's usually as a ship Prince Fluff was a big part of my childhood, with Epic Yarn being my first game. To me, he was Kirby's fellow main character, and they had a cool sibling/best friend relationship. But now, a lot of what I see of him is just . . . Kirfluff. Which is cool and all, but man's a prince! He can do more than be a boyfriend! Heck, he runs an entire kingdom by himself! One thing that I want to see more of is Fluff as a stressed but caring ruler, not just a sidekick/boyfriend to the pink puff. Give yarn boy his deserved appreciation!.

Dark Meta Knight

Hello! I am here to spread the good word of a character with no personality. It's the mirror thing. Of course.  Dark Meta Knight has No Personality. Zero. Nada. Zilch. He's Meta Knight but Dark. What does that mean? Your guess. He fights Meta Knight. And wins lmao skill issue blueboy. And fights Kirby. And loses a few times, which isn't surprising. He was dumb enough to split Kirby in four, though. Four times the Kirby is four times the amount your ass is grass. You're practically a forest at that point because you're so grass. So he's violent and has no personality outside of being violent. Woo! Triple Deluxe has him attack Dedede in Dededetour inside the Mirror. This has led people to think he fucked over Sectonia. This makes my heart bleed as much as Taranza probably did when he was punted off of Royal Road via Fuck You Lightning Ball. My man just has no sense of timing,,,, They just wanted to include a Meta Knight battle because Knight Battles are a Kirby standard at this point,,, You think a man that stupid can figure out how to take advantage of a woman's insecurity? I don't even know if he knows women exist. How many female Amazing Mirror characters are there??? Boxy??? Moley mentions having a wife once and Dameta doesn't know what he means. But other than being driven to immense violence and being scapegoated for the stuff his boss probably did, Dameta has other hobbies! Like whatever his motivation in Star Allies is. Something dastardly, I'm sure. People really like to pretend he's not part of the Star Ally club when my man is doodling with toddlers and posing with his less cool less edgy self. Would a villain have a silly little we heart kirby statue? No, didn't think so. Also I cannot imagine him as a dad to Shadkirby either. Do they even interact? I've seen both "Amazing dad" and "Outright abusive" as interpretations and I can't go with either. But I think that's because I don't enjoy Metadad that much. They're like awkward coworkers. He thinks they're student and mentor. They're not even that. Dameta barely knows Shadow exists.

Dark Meta Knight is very popularly characterized as like an abusive parent, usually physically abusive. Mainly to Shadow Kirby, of course. He's an asshole, yeah, but not THAT bad, christ. I've seen multiple fics where Shadow Kirby is some poor little hey what t the fuck hes fighting himself. um. Back to being a hater.

Shadow Kirby

Some folks still think he's shy/cowardly like from the Amazing Mirror Days. Not really true anymore. From what fans have seen from the ending of the game, he does protect the Mirror World. As for the spin off games that include him, he's pretty tough and even creates mischief sometimes.

Shadow Kirby is constantly treated as an "evil" Kirby. Especially bad after Fighters and fighters two. Not to mention "Parallel Kirby". There's also a strangely common trend of making them more sapient than pink Kirby, who tends to be infantilised to hell and back. Shadow Kirby also is often treated as a complete coward who can't do anything right, when they aren't called evil.

He's shown as completely different in several different occasions, not only in personality but in design I like shadow kirby he's purple and then he's not

Dark Taranza

Dark Taranza, gonna be honest what little characterization people give him are actually okay compared to the rest. But I'm still a hater and hang on im watching jerma clips. okay. He's like Sectonia if Sectonia was Taranza if that makes sense.

Shadow Dedede

Shadow Dedede barely gets shit but I'm going to be a little hater anyways. I don't like most characterizations. I see people make him like a dictator like bro he's literally just some guy.

Sectonia

have you seen how often people say that  sectonia and taranza were boyfriend and girlfriend in canon?????? they were never!!! shes the gosh dang final boss but shes only ever used to give taranza angst. she is her own person with a personality!!!! yes their backstories are interconnected but gosh!!!!

This not too prominent but I can't stand it when people portray her as an uwu shy girl pre-corruption. While she gave in her worst aspects, she was probably always a kind of vain, girlboss! I mean she knows how to fight with rapiers c'mon!!!

idk it just feels like lots of people just see her as Taranza's tragic dead wife and like nothing else you know? like she is more than that and I feel like what little content we have of her proves that (like the soul boss descriptions (especially the original japanese text of the 2nd phase!!) and the eternal dream song) - or maybe im reading too much into those because im hyperfixating on my blorbo whoops

Kine

I'm not sure how true this opinion is considering how little people talk about Kine, I feel this is partially the anime's fault, or maybe its because of how he just looks, but Kine is cool and is not some stupid loser fish. Before the days of Crystal Shards, Him, Kirby, Rick & Coo were the dream team at the time, always hanging out going, with various activities long before the days of Meta Knight or even Dedede. Kine is an awesome aquatic rep for the Kirby series not to mention drinking and being a pirate and Kine even has a Wife! Kine has got it! I guess this is a partial compliant of Ship of Theseus which can be applied with Rick & Coo too, but I feel Kine gets the most hate if any because of people who are unfamiliar just see a dopey fish and are unaware of his origins and his past with Kirby. I'm not upset with the current representation of the Kirby cast (I love the RTDL team being the main crew) but I do hope the animal buddies get some more love, Especially Kine.

Dedede

reduced to his significantly less in-depth and compelling characterization from the anime

Anime Dedede.

Magolor

one time i read a series of fanfictions where he called every female character in the story a bitch and was portrayed as the good guy in the story

Is it possible to both be flanderized and woobified at the same time? There is a lot of "removing his responsibility for his actions" but can we get better jokes than "hehe Microtransgolor hehe scammer egg”

Always an uwu soft boy. Like no that is a criminal not a catboy.

Bro would never be intimidated by Magolor

Marx

People either portray him as a edgy sociopath or constantly bored and annoyed. Portraying him as an adult or a teen kinda annoys me as well. I'm very picky about portrayals of Marx so don't get upset if you portray him as one of these I've listed.

Sometimes I see people only joking about the "hungry so he came along" thing with Marx and it's pretty overdone

They took one look at him and said “to the insane asylum bitch”. I don’t think he’s some crazy murder hobo rather a dude with questionable morals and puts his own mischief and fun before others it seems. Though Marx is indeed one of the least “character” characters when I mean he doesn’t have much depth in comparison to other characters. But you could do anything else than have him follow the Jevil path of him being crazy. Make him evil? Sure. Make him a cringefail idiot? Sure. Make him a crybaby bitch? Go ahead. But making him the definition of what a 14 year old white girl in New Jersey that probably is addicted to Instagram and thinks Webtoon comics are the highest level of art and storytelling’s definition of insane doesn’t cut it cuz. Slapping the spaz label without a thought of what’s being done on a character who fits the mark makes the Schizoid peeved who coulda known. As this is all coming from the one person who has likely ruined Marx’s character the most for Kirblur by making him a somewhat empathetic manchild who clings to both pipe dreams of normality and being a monster btw. (Also this doesn’t mean jokes, you can joke about him being a psycho like Jerma it’s when it’s taken 100% seriously is when it’s bad).    Also to add on, Woobification of Marx or any Kirby character period CAN be annoying if taken too far. I take full responsibility in the fact my variant is also woobifed to an extent but that train full of ticking bombs doesn’t bother me as much. Make him sadcry and be gay he deserves both those things. Send him to sad hell with the rest of them.

To the anon above... What?

Making him stupid or reducing him to just Silly Clown. Or just having him act in purely impulsive or spontaneous ways (which sometimes happens when juxtaposed with a more "collected" character like Magolor).

Daroach

this is something i’ve noticed specifically in chatfics, but when daroach is in the ensemble some of them tend to designate him as the Goofy Meme Dumbass for… idk, fandom quota? i really don’t know why it happens because he has a bunch of canon dialogue (and alternate continuity stuff like the novels) that show him to be cool and clever. i’m not saying he can’t have a sense of humor or anything (he’s definitely the type to have a bunch of quips), but it sucks when he’s mischaracterized because the fandom doesn’t give him that much attention as is. if you NEED a silly haha guy, marx is right there!”

Morpho Knight

"Morpho Knight is a creature of mercy. It's a benevolent entity putting tired souls to rest." NO?! I'm going to copy-paste some stuff I put in a post of my own. A while back, SYZekrom on Reddit translated Morpho Knight's entry, and it contains some... interesting information. Allow me to provide some excerpts. "He’s a red knight with butterfly wings, continuing from a pair of white wings like an angel’s, and a pair of azure wings with a bit of an evil feel." This is the first of two instances where Morpho Knight is outright stated to be evil. There's also stuff in the art book that supports my theory that Galacta and Morpho are permanently fused and the former is not dead, but I don't want to get carried away. These are its gacha figure descriptions in Forgotten Land: "The fluttering fiend that casts judgment upon final battles is drawn toward the isolated isles of Forgo Dreams. There, it feasts on the most powerful soul it finds and takes the fearsome form of a scarlet-clad knight… Let the most challenging battle of this new world begin!" –English "One of the dreaming birds, which are said to pass judgement upon decisive battles, drifts towards a forgotten, isolated isle as if summoned. There, it sips upon the strongest Soul and descends as a red knight. Finally, welcome the dusk… of the deadliest battle in this New World!"  –Japanese While at first glance there doesn't seem to be any information of note, the "fluttering fiend" bit in the English version is outright stating Morpho Knight is evil, and the phrase "he deadliest battle in this New World" doesn't sound particularly heroic. But I digress... Morpho is NOT a good person! This is clearly leading up to a villain vs hero confrontation! Which, may I add, implies that reaping Galacta Knight wasn't necessarily a good thing for it to do?!

Elfilis

elfilis is NOT entirely malicious. they would gladly accept hugs and kisses. being in a fucking capsule ALONE and AWARE for likely CENTURIES will DO SOMETHING TO YOU YOU KNOW?? god fucking DAMN dude... and after the ending of the true arena in the game, WILLINGLY GAVE THEMSELF UP TO ELFILIN. also they're not fucking DEAD you PSYCHOPAYHS elfilis is STILL VERY MUCH ALIVE!!!!!!! RUUAAAGGGH!!!!!!!!!!

Susie

Being Evil or being a Sad uwu girl who has had bad things happen to her seems to be the only way most people can portray this character.

Susie isn't a friend. She's selfish and wanted to take over the company. Her "redemption" is pointing Kirby at the world-ending machine, gives him armor, and then stands around. She doesn't even know his name. The closest she does for good is tell Kirby to do something he would've done on his own.

My girl really became the subject of hate thanks to a mistranslation. I mean yeah she likes robots and shit but the fact that people think she is a terrible person and that she's still colonizing planets makes me upset. i blame the translation team for everything.

When people say she has fully redeemed herself and is reduced to cishet, pretty girl??? Like no, star allies mistranslation my ass you fell for her corporate propaganda. The female characters in this franchise, while lovable, is not nearly as popular as a lot of the male ones. HAL literally gave us a morally grey girlboss who we can still sympathise with. She actually feels like a very real character in this fictional world.

You Know How People Are About Her

she's not even my blorbo!!!!!! everyone thinks she's a huge evil bitch who has done terrible genuinely unspeakable things. i read a fic that went on and on abt the horrible things she "did" to meta knight when he was mechanized (things so bad i cant even say) and i was pulling my hair out she did not fucking do any of that!!!! yes the universe can have pretty dark moments but good lord people only use her to woobify meta knight and give fuel to ship him with others and it pisses me off lol. or people go too far the other way and woobify HER to ship with him and aughhhh no one has a shred of media literacy. she's not purely good or purely evil she's such a complex character who did bad things because she was in a bad situation and the best example of a morally grey character who's on no one's side but herself and that will always be more interesting that 100% good or 100% evil. once again she's not even my blorbo but i've never seen a character butchered this badly by a fandom

Because of mistranslation (from what I've heard) Susie's whole mechanizing planets has been the number one thing when it came to susie hate and the only reason as to why people hate this girl so much. Honestly Susie's character has been fucked up immensely and no one has such a divided spread of opinions like she does. Some people brush away her backstory and make her a soulless being with no love whatsoever.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Susie Haltmann. I cannot with the fandom interpretations anymore. It's ridiculous how bad they've gotten. Susie is a two dimensional character. I absolutely despise seeing people portray her as some sort of greedy capitalist bastard and "the one with the braincell". In canon, she's consistently been portrayed as a sweet person (with a knack for violence, but EVERYONE in this series is like that). Everything bad she did in Planet Robobot was FOR WORK and the will of HER FATHER, and even if she did want to do the things she did, she's clearly not doing them any more. The "mechanizing planets and peoples" line in Star Allies is a mistranslation. And the "punishing savages" doesn't have to mean anything bad. It could mean she's punishing evildoers with her money and resources. In fact, I've seen some translations put it like that And Meta Knight... is just the straw that broke the camel's back. Oh lord. Why does everyone insist that he hates her? There's the little scene in Star Allies... but god, that isn't canon, it's clearly a joke. If anything, Susie might have been trying to talk to him and he was just trying to avoid her in a misinterpretation of the situation. It's supposed to be funny. Why are you imposing this onto people like this automatically makes Susie a devil incarnate and anything involving those two characters in problematic? Just shut up.

Meta Knight

Everyone thinks he’s just the ‘edgy character’ or ‘the uncaring mentor figure’ while in actuality he really does care for Kirby (and Bandana Dee) more than anyone gives him credit for!

Everyone either makes him all broody and lonesome, like shadow the hedgehog or batman; or they make him a goofy dad, like Dedede or Hugh Neutron. In reality, he's a weird uncle with unknown motivations, simultaneously selfish and practical. Also, he doesn't hide the fact that he likes sweets, he eats them away from everyone so no one steals them (Dedede and Squeak Squad).

He's not Kirby's fucking dad! He's an irresponsible uncle that hands out swords! And he is definitely in love with dedede, he is the only other dramatic bitch willing to build a skyscraper to beat up kirby (I am using intense anger for comedic effect) 

HES A FUCKING TWINK ASS FRUITY ASS MOTHERFUCKING CRINGEFAIL MAN. HE NEEDS TO HAVE HIS PERSONALITY INTERPRETED AS BOTH THE MANGA AND THE GAMES. YES HE IS MYSTERIOUS BUT HE ALSO WOULD TRIP AND FALL OVER HIMSELF. I NEED STAR ALLIES KICKING SWORD PISSED. I NEED MANGA ROSES BITCHASS META. I NEED THAT PARTICULAR VERSION OF MY BOY meat knight RIGHT NOW. meta knight is cringefail. half of the fandom agrees the other half does not. im explode.

He wants to look cool so bad but he is actually a huge fucking goofy goober. Any representation of Meta Knight being a badass is propaganda made by Meta Knight himself to convince you he’s cool. I mean have you seen his RTDL Deluxe pause screen description? King Dedede’s and Bandana Dee’s are in first person, but his is in third person? He’s literally talking about himself in the third person like hello????? Meta Knight is such a fucking lame goofy little man who thinks he’s the most badass motherfucker on the planet.

To fair this has been less common lately but back during 2014-2016 MK was usually portrayed in fanart/fanfic as either this wise veteran or cold edgelord. He is just an unhindged!!! Silly!!! Guy!!! He can be cool and cringefail!!! But he is also compassionate in his own aloof, awkward way!!! 

i am not a big fan of the metadede ship. i think people are shipping for the sake of having a ship and nothing else. As someone with a severely underrepresented orientation (aromantic and asexual), when I see a character I like, I will project onto said character. This is the case with my interpretation of Meta Knight. I saw a cool character that I liked who a) doesn’t have any canon love interests and b) didn’t really need a whole ton of friends/significant others to be happy with life. Meta Knight always seemed to be perfectly content with the friends he has on Popstar and his crew and everyone in the anime, so I looked to him for hope that I could live the same way. I was open to the metadede ship at first, but as time passed, I felt less and less comfortable with it. It seemed to me that people were so hungry for gay ships that they just pulled this one out of thin air courtesy of Kirby Fighters 2, which is to my knowledge the only piece of media that somewhat supports this. Why can’t people just be happy with MK and Dedede being friends or frenemies? I’m probably starting drama with this bc I know how popular metadede is on Tumblr so I apologize for upsetting you if that is the case.  But I also feel that I shouldn’t apologize just because I have a different opinion.

I dislike how "pathetic" the fandom has made him out to be. I don't like it when he's portrayed as overpowered but... "pathetic, whiny manlet" could not be further from the truth. How did we get to that?

Kirby

Often people make Kirby more dependent on others than he actually is. He's an extremely independent person that literally cannot be stopped by anyone who tries to get in his way

ik its been covered to death but matpat made that video about how kirby is evil and completely ignored the themes of friendship and kindness that are present throughout the entire series

dude hes not a baby. he drinks in the manga adukt kirbies are a fine interp god. and hes not a godkiller or some shit he just fights for his friends hes not some terrifying monster kirby is literally just some friendly guy. strong yeah but just some guy. he fights strong entities incidentally lol

The anime portrays them as a literal infant, and due to its overprevalence (despite not being in the same stream of canon as the games), this is often their characterization in the fandom.  Canonically, they indeed are a child (at most, they'd probably be a teen in the modern games), but they are old enough to talk, and they demonstrate a high amount of emotional and even technical intelligence.

Admittedly, this is one that usually only happens to people outside the fandom, but it bugs me when people portray Kirby as a sort of immoral monster who only does good things on accident. When it’s quite the opposite! He may not be incredibly bright, but he does his best to help people. Oddly enough, there’s not many cases of “he would not say that” in the fandom for me because of how loose Kirby’s story is. It is lore heavy but the actual characters aren’t super concrete save for a few and I think that’s perfectly fine

People forget that their air bullet!! is an attack!! its literally one of their only ways of dealing damage in DL1!!! I’m looking at you Smash Bros!!! Why isn’t it their nair?????????

making them a toddler who cant speak for themself

I swear everyone outside of the fandom sees Kirby as either a braincell infant or  a merciless force of mass destruction

Taranza

WHAT DIDN'T THEY DO!?!?!? Taranza, as we see him in Triple Deluxe, is such a fun villain. He's dramatic, arrogant, a total suck-up to Sectonia, and it's so. Fucking. Good. He's a devious bastard, he monologues!!! His animations in the Clash games are so fucking campy and dramatic it's chefs kiss!!!! Fanon Taranza is as plain as white bread. Sometimes as pale as it, looking at some of the gijinkas. No shade though! As little shade as there is melanin in him lmAO- He is flanderised to hell and back. There are so. Many. Fucking. Taranzas who happen to be nothing but sad and weepy about his evil dead wife. Where's the bite!!! The pizzazz!!! Even in canon, when he is a bit of a wet sack later on, he still hunts for an altar he can bring her back on. My boy's a wannabe necromancer!!! Write that shit in your lost lenore Sectonia fic you fucking cowards Queen's Phantom ain't just for show. The above is also evidence for woobification! The fucker is obviously sad his crush is dead! But can we pleeease focus on anything else. This is definitely not targeted at Hal Labs. Imagine being woobied so hard your creators backtrack your personality I would just die. "Ehehe he's the responsible mage!!" No the fuck he isn't he can't be trusted with anything he tries take control it WILL blow up in his face. He knows magic he's good at magic but is he responsible??? Fuck no my man's strongest attack is "Blow myself the fuck up via a giant burst of magic" and it shreds. Even worse is the "Taranza got mind-controlled by Sectonia" theory in tandem with this. That wasn't confirmed right. Right. God I hope not that would be embarrassing. He can't even have a moment to realise his devotion has gone too far and she doesn't love him or even care for him, and he has to finally make that decision to free himself from her like ain't that cool!!! And then making him all sad over her afterwards it's just a Little Fucked if you're tryna put it all together eh. Eh. And he's not suuuper objectified (That usually goes to Seccy rest in piss girlie) but the way he's treated in some ships is. Eugh. Fucking Magoranza amirite he's basically there to look responsible and cute (I've already explained my issue with this) and to fix the tortured soul who is Magolor (I do not like Magolor. Nor Magoranza.) Tbh Sectaranza does the same he's there to be tragic because his girlie's dead. When you give him less personality than the dead cardboard cutout you know you fucked up. Anyways these ramblings are here to remind you what Hal Labs stole from us: Taranza but not a TOTAL saddo. Theatre kid Taranza. Arrogant prick. He's even British.

For the anon above me, I just wanted to say that this entry is probably my favorite and lives rent free in my mind.

I'm definitely guilty of it and it's all we have to go off of but PLEASE he needs more than to be Sad. Give him hobbies and interests that aren't just gardening, at least. Make stuff up about him, please!

So, SO many people make him an absolute crybaby over Sectonia. Even though, yes, he has grief problems, it's not his whole freaking personality. Pretty sure they're forgetting the fact that he LITERALLY HELPED KILL HER.

Taranza is not just a little pathetic guy!! He’s a bitch— a little schemer if you will !!! He’s smug—he’s formal—he’s a little fucker!!! Taranza needs a new partner and that partner is me

Oddly enough I do think people make him out to be a bit too much of a goody two shoes. Like he has done some mean things in the past and it wasn’t all Sectonia’s fault, he literally *stole* the Dimensional Mirror after all. Don’t get me wrong I think he’s a good person in the end, but cmon. He has committed crimes

Taranza in some corners of the fandom has kinda been turned into this forever crying baby who can never recover from losing Joronia and like, I never see people who do that write about the recovery and being able to move on to the final stage of grief.

HE IS NOT A SIMP, MY GOD

Everyone needs to stop reducing him to pathetic simp. He is allowed to grieve but he's probably one of the more mature characters within the series???

People disregard everything else about his character to make his tragic relationship with sectonia his only character trait. Not sure if this quite counts as woobifying since he does canonically still mourn her (and obviously seeing a close friend/crush go down the path of self destruction and ultimately die from it WOULD NOT be something you'd get over quickly). But I'm so tired of taranza in fanart and the like being an uwu softboy with Crying as his main character trait. Like he's canonically more than that! He goes full cocky villain mode when you confront him near the end of triple deluxe and he can pack a punch in star allies with his magic! If you're going to write about him prove that you don't just know about the guy from twitter artwork!

And here’s a graph!

Anyways, thanks everyone for your submissions! What I’ve learned here is important: We’re all fucking delusional.

[fayetape]

Flame by Fayetape - Chapter 2: The Games

Finnick Odair x Reader

Word count: 1446

CW: Early Sexualization of Finnick, angst, death, very minor gore.

Summary of series: Reader and Finnick met when they were very young. They experience the horrors of Panem together as they grow up. Throughout the years they fight for a happy ending. Whatever that may look like… Angst/Fluff/Smut/Series/Minimal use of Y/N!

Authors note: Time jump coming next chapter!! Thank you guys for reading my first ever series :) Open to kind & constructive criticism. Hope u enjoy -Faye

Hugging her knees into her chest she sat on the hardwood floors of her living room watching the light move through the gossamer curtains. She watched the light move like ocean waves towards her and away. Tomorrow was Finnick's games. Sixty fifth fucking annual hunger games. The more she thought about it the angrier she grew. She could physically feel herself moving through the stages of grief rapidly. Denial. Anger. Angry at the capitol. Angry at the crowd. Nobody volunteered for him. Angry at Finnick. He left her. She knew it was stupid, he couldn’t help it. Bargaining and depression. Acceptance. Finnick was going to die. She was going to be alone again.

Her mother turned on the TV. An old boxy television with a blurred screen. It glitched and flashed black and white static before making out a blurry figure of the one and only Caesar Flickerman. She watched as he danced around the stage happily. Sparkling blue hair moving across the screen. It pissed her off even more. Seeing someone so happy interviewing these people as they’re being put to death. Seeing these people act so cocky as if they’re going to win. She knew at least a handful of them would get their hands on Finnick in some way. She was seething. A district three girl walked on stage wearing a chrome and bright teal accented dress. She looked as ridiculous as the announcer lady at the reaping. Y/N rolled her eyes. The girl bragged about how intelligent she is and how she came from a rich family. She would get a good amount of sponsors. Caesar kissed her hand and sent her off stage before announcing,

“Next up! Finnick Odair!” he laughed, “Come out here, boy!”

Finnick walked confidently out onto the stage putting his hand up to give a quick wave to the audience before sitting down.

“So Finnick, what makes you think you can win the games?” he asked without introduction.

“Think?” Finnick laughed, “Caesar I KNOW I can win the games. It's more about how I decide to win.”

This confidence was so unlike him. He had always been secure in himself, but not like this. Must have been a front.

“And how's that?” Caesar asked.

“Well it would be stupid of me to give that away now wouldn’t it? Let’s just say I have a couple tricks up my sleeve.”

Caesar grabbed a hold on Finnick’s sleeve. He was dressed in what looked to be a sailor or pirate look. Long, flowy white shirt and pants with a thick brown corset belt separating the two fabrics. He was wrapped in heavy fisherman's rope that looked crystalized, like it had been in the ocean too long.

“Oh and how we would love to see what’s up these sleeves!” Caesar flirted.

Disgusting. She could tell Finnick was uneasy, reading his microexpressions. Finnick just laughed.

“Well Finnick, we already know you have a good shot at winning. What’s the first thing you’re doing as soon as you get home?”

Her eyes lit up. Home.

“Well first, I’m gonna do the victory tour of course. Then I’ll see my friends and family. Maybe I’ll buy them all a new house with all the money I’ll earn.”

“You really are confident in your win, Odair!”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve spent my childhood training for these games. Even if I didn’t get reaped I was going to volunteer anyway.”

The crowd gasped.

“Volunteer?”

“I’m here to win Caesar. Whatever it takes. I’m good with weapons, archery, in hand to hand, good in water-”

Caesar cut him off, “Are you good in bed?” He chuckled, “Only kidding of course. We’ll wait until you’re eighteen.”

What the hell?

Finnick just smiled, “Well I’ll look forward to it.” Finnick looked out at the crowd and winked.

“Finnick Odair everyone!”

The crowd cheered. What the hell was that? He exited the stage with a sly smile. That wasn’t like him at all. Why was Caesar being so… suggestive?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Her mother woke her up early to get ready to go to the town. Mandatory watch day. She cried and clung to her bed. Denial. Bargaining. Anger. Depression. She sat up. Feet dangling off the foot of her bed. She threw on a light blue plaid day dress. Observing closely she could see light tea colored stains splattered on the hem of the skirt. Another day where she and Finnick explored the fields. She looked down sadly and headed outside. Once again bypassing her mother. Walking towards the field filled her with so much emotion. Anger. Depression. Anger. She started running towards the field as if she would start to fly. But she didn’t. Once out of breath she collapsed onto the dirt, hugging her knees into her chest once again, breathing heavily. The view of the horizon was blurred from the tears welling in her eyes. She aggressively tore out the roots of grass surrounding her, making quiet ripping sounds and marking her hands with green. Putting a hand over her own mouth she screamed a muffled cry. She sat for a few more minutes staring out in the distance before heading back to town. Her mother caught her half way towards the screening. She didn’t question her, knowing how much pain this poor girl must be in. They took their seats. Old lawn chairs and some fancier recliners. Peacekeepers lined the town. After what felt like forever, the games began.

The camera panned around the arena. First thing she noticed was Finnick. He was dressed in all black. Plain black t shirt, plain black cargos. She recognized the outfit from his limited wardrobe. The arena could have been beautiful if it didn’t have the implications of a bloodbath. Rocky, forested mountains that drop down to a rocky beach. Mountain mist coated the surface of the trees. The tributes were lined in a circle near the cliff’s edge.

And in 5

4

3

2

1… The tributes all raced towards the center to get ahold of all sorts of deadly weapons and survival kits. Finnick sprinted towards the center and grabbed a backpack and a spear, fighting off a dark haired boy from district 8. She couldn’t watch the gore. All she wanted to know was if he was alive. She kept her eyes gazing at the side of the screen so not to witness the destruction while not looking down.

=-=-=-=-=-=

The cannons sounded out the tributes dead. Seven. Finnick had found a hole deep in the woods. He stacked leaves and rocks on top of his makeshift fort to keep himself hidden as he rested for the night. During the first few days he managed to fight off five tributes that earned him a gash across his nose and cheek. It’s been four days already. His sponsors have spoiled him with expensive gifts from french bread to designer medicine. He never wanted for anything. He was quite comfortable. The other tributes haven’t realized how deadly he had been. They seem to be more concerned with the older career packs. This gave him an advantage like no other. He took on the role of being a deadly force hidden in plain sight. Finnick wasn’t one to make allies. He knew that he would form an attachment. He recognized that he could lose sponsors if he gave up his “tough-guy act” and the loss of sponsors could be fatal for him.

He was one of the last alive. Day six he woke up to an expensive gift from one of his sponsors. A trident. It was one of the prettiest things he’d ever seen in person. Prettier than any jewel at the market or pearl he had caught. He couldn’t imagine what it must have cost. He tried not to think about it. Day eight he traveled to the top of the rocky mountain near the cliff side. Over the days he had weaved a net out of vines that he held up with tree branches. Weaving the net almost made him feel at home, sitting on the pier teaching the locals how to braid a fisher line. There were four tributes left including himself. He planned to lure the rest onto the cliff, capture them in his net and use his shiny new gift to finish them off. He used himself as bait, standing on the cliff pretending to be oblivious to his surroundings. Then they fall into the net where they meet their death. He tried not to think about death. He tried not to think about guilt. In a matter of hours, Finnick Odair was crowned the youngest victor of the Hunger Games.

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

The Clone Wars 4.09 ‘Plan of Dissent’ Reaction Take 2

I think out of all of the episodes from the Umbara arc, this is my favourite. If it’s possible to have a favourite with everything that happens. There’s so much of the clones themselves in this episode. So much of their interactions and personalities and characteristics and lives.

Hello to Fives' very nice thighs and crotch. There’s just something about a clone lying on their back, legs splayed, knee bent, as they do mechanical work on the underneath of a ship. Insert your own references to the 2 nickels meme here. Also inserting the gif of Tech doing the exact same thing because I can.

There are definitely moments where Fives voice gets husky and it is very nice. I am not complaining at all.

Obi-Wan is looking rather boxy there

Krell completely changes when he’s talking to someone with equal or more power than him. Slimy bastard.

I know they mean arms as in weapons but every time they say ‘arm’ all can picture is crates full of actual arms.

That tiny head shake from Rex. He is so done.

Ugh that look up from Rex. Ugh.

Ahahahaha it definitely looks like Fives is about to burst into an earnest and deeply emotional ballad in the music video as part of his 90s boy band. So, the important questions are: Who are the rest of the members of this clone boy band? And what is their name? These things, I must know them.

Look at Rex’s big beautiful brown eyes there

Paused the episode only to realise Jesse has an exclamation mark on the front of his chest plate.

Tup waving his space screwdriver grabby thingy around to make his point. I think it’s a calliper? It looks similar to the one Tech has on his belt or in one of his 2000 pockets. Just noticed Tup has the same hairline as Tech too.

“I do think his desire for victory has blinded him to the fact that there are lives at stake. I’ve never seen a General with these kind of casualties.” – I love this moment from Jesse. Especially because he doesn’t go after Dogma, he just calmly but firmly points out what isn’t right about this situation. The adorable nose scrunch is also out in full force.

“I don’t have a better plan.” Rex, you always have a better plan

Fives: Why don’t we just do the same thing we did before!

Lmao Fives’ little chaos face as he explains his plan

Gif by @nickleister from this glorious post

REX THIGH

That ‘do it’ from Rex was very Palpatine of him

“Yeah, he wasn’t really flying. More like avoiding crashing.” Tup going for the jugular there

Omg that was not subtle at all. “What’s going on?” “Eh, nothing.” *awkward*

Oh, Rex and Fives are fighting. That line from Fives about them all being not just another number really hit home too.

I know this is supposed to be a serious moment and all that but omg Fives is built like an absolute unit. Boy is thicc.

Well this is going well. Fives, why are you standing underneath the fighter that Hardcase is barely able to control?

Fives: Hardcase, what are you doing?! Hardcase: If I knew, I wouldn’t be doing it! CACKLING

Who's the random clone helping out Fives and Hardcase? They’ve got different paint but I can’t tell who they are.

“Great, this can’t get much worse” Well now you’ve gone and jinxed it

Oh, so that’s where that shot of Fives standing there comes from. Who knew the absolute chaos that was going on behind as Fives stands there looking all gorgeous.

Fives: “Nothing’s out of control down here.” Hardcase: *actively destroying everything*

Omg the absolutely over the top agonised full eye and body roll that Fives gives while he draws out a long “Uh” to try and come up with a cover story for what they’re doing. 

That has got to be a homage or reference to Han Solo doing basically the same thing in A New Hope.

“That’s gonna leave a mark.” Hardcase, you just melted the door!

“No harm done.” Says Hardcase, standing amongst the ruin he has just created

Absolutely losing it at Hardcase’s cover story for what they were getting up to. To be fair to him, he actually sold it fairly well and it was a decently believable cover story to come up with on the spot. Fives, on the other hand, cannot lie to save himself. Rex is not falling for his bullshit one bit.

Aaaaaaaaaah Hardcase’s little wiggly sneaky fingers. You utterly adorable dork. He looks so pleased with his idea at the end too. It’s the best idea guys!

Hardcase is in. He wants chaos.

Anakin telling Fives that the trick to taking out a control ship is to hit the main reactor from the inside? Well that’s totally not going to come back and bite him in his shiny black asthmatic arse in approximately 20 cycles or so. 

Jesse and Hardcase’s doubtful scrunched up faces as the listen to Fives’ “plan” are utterly adorable

"I can’t help you, when you get caught." — That exchange between Fives and Rex definitely sounds like Rex has put up Fives’ crazy bullshit before. And you can tell how much Rex cares and knows this is the right thing to do yet he’s stuck and he can’t do anything to help them or protect them when the shit hits the fan.

If those fighters are supposed to be locked down, then why are they conveniently sitting outside?

I found this scene of Dogma and Tup in the barracks really uncomfortable. I’ve been trying to reserve judgement on Dogma and not be so harsh on him because I know what happens in the end and he seems like a fan favourite. But it really felt like he was bullying Tup into snitching on Fives, Jesse and Hardcase. I don’t know what Dogma and Tup’s connection to each other is. They seem fairly close so I’m going with close or best friends, if not batch mates. I know Dogma thinks he’s doing the right thing (I know, please don’t come at me) but it felt really uncomfortable watching him bully his best friend/batch mate and vod into doing what he wanted. I think I’m reacting to this so much because I relate to Tup so much. The constant anxious worry. Being bullied and peer pressured into doing things you don’t want to do (hello school trauma). Out of everything that has happened, and a lot of truly awful things happen in this arc, it felt like this was the worst thing Dogma did. Even if he didn’t mean it, that doesn’t excuse it. 

Paused the episode at the start of the next scene and Rex is standing there in the dark looking down at his datapad and fuck me is he a tall glass of water.

The look on Rex’s face when he sees Fives, Jesse and Hardcase fly off in the fighters! I mentioned this in my first reaction post but man, is that a multi-layered expression. Deep long suffering at putting up with their bullshit. Admiration and respect that the crazy bastards went and did it. Worry and concern about what they’re about to do and how they’re all going to deal with the fall out. And probably a bit of satisfaction and amusement that it’s going to piss off Krell.

“I’m just doing it for fun!” Hardcase knows what he’s about

Well that’s a shit fight

Is that a blimp?

Fives, telling Hardcase not to get an itchy trigger finger is like telling you not to be a chaotic little shit. Utterly pointless

Omg the supply ship is even sphere shaped, just with a giant rectangle in the middle. It’s just a B-grade Death Star.

“I’m sure the report will make your strategy more effective.” Rex you sly bastard

So I know everyone says clones can’t lie to save themselves but Rex was pretty damn believable right there, covering for Fives, Jesse and Hardcase. It didn’t feel like a cover story that was made up on the spot either, so Rex had to have come up with it already. He knew they were going to go off on their own hair brained mission, and, even though he was disagreeing with Fives, he still came up with a way to cover for them and protect them as best he could. So he’s bloody smart and cares deeply too. Ugh, I love him so much.

Rex running interference for Fives, Jesse and Hardcase

“Regarding, what?” CACKLING

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” asdf;lkj why are you so badass. Though it does feel sad that all of this has started to pit the clones against each other. And doesn’t that come back in an even worse way later on.

Oh look, it’s a trench run to a reactor! I wonder where we’ve seen this before!

That tactical droid didn’t consider Fives in his equations

Oh man as soon as Hardcase’s fighter got hit, that was the moment you knew he wasn’t coming back. 

That gesture Fives made to stop his fighter made him look like he was using the Force

Nooooo Hardcase what are you doing

“This is for the 501st. Don’t wait for me.” *sobs*

Hardcase calls Fives sir. Again, I am baffled as to what the rank system is here, though I’m assuming ARC Troopers are at least above standard clone troopers in some way?

“If I know Hardcase, we better leave.” That speaks to a lot of experience with Hardcase making things going boom

“Live to fight another day.” Dammit now I can’t see the screen through the tears. Hardcase had a little happy smile on his face too.

Guys, you only blew up half of it! Though I should imagine the rest of it went up too.

That smirk from Rex. He knew.

Very interesting that Tup’s here with Rex. I wonder if Rex took him aside after intercepting him and Dogma or if Tup came to Rex.

It’s a tiny moment but Fives jumps out of the fighter and there’s a shot of his feet and legs landing on the ground and his kama is swooshing around his legs looking all badass

Rex’s look of concern when he sees only Fives and Jesse. He knew.

Oh Hardcase

It’s an equally blink and you’ll miss it moment but this is where that gif of Rex glaring over his shoulder comes from. I think this is going to be like the “On your knees” moment for me. Definitely hot in isolation but now knowing that Fives and Jesse just told Rex and Tup that Hardcase died, it’s going to take me a while to separate what’s happening in the moment from the hot glare.

Rex trying to take the blame for Fives and Jesse and then Fives refusing to accept this and making sure Rex and Jesse don’t get hurt and the agonised way Rex says “Fives!” and Jesse’s worried expression the whole time and just aaaaaaaaaaah *pained noises*

“Oh, do you?” I hate Krell even more. Piss off you overblown bullfrog

Being executed for disobeying orders seems way too steep. I could understand being reprimanded but shooting someone because they didn’t do what they were told? At least Krell gets what’s coming from him in the end.

[krookodyke]

something i noticed recently is that as marian is going about her character arc, her progress is evident thru her hair. seeing as how she starts out the film “tightly wound”, it makes sense the first time we see her in the film not only is she working (in an office, no less) but she also has a very proper bun in—

even when she shows up to sugar n’ spice she hasn’t changed out of her work gear, not even a teensy bit. she still has her blazer + her little blouse on and her hair is still very much up. even as carla tells her girl take your blouse off she’s like Um. No O_O

the only time in the first two-ish acts of the movie we see her w her hair fully down is when she has jamie over to give her frozen vegetables to put on her black eye, when the day is clearly over for her. she’s in the private space of her apartment only with jamie so obvs her hair is down. (you could also point to this as jamie being the only person marian is truly comfortable with, which i’d also wholeheartedly agree with.)

however as the two of them begin their Trek down south, her hair is still in the same very proper bun it seems she’s used to. even the night after marian is awkwardly kicked out of the hotel for jamie and her hookup to have sex, she still has that same fuckass bun when they’re getting pizza and spot the soccer girls.

but Notably the morning after jamie & marian’s First Kiss that marian scrambles away into the night from and after jamie picks her up from the police station, marian’s hair is now different! she’s in a high pony! (also interesting how jamie’s mess of curls have also been thrown into an updo here— this fit is the only time in the movie that she’s truly wearing a different hairstyle. i assume bcuz margaret was tired of the curlers, but it’s still a fun detail comparatively.)

when they arrive at the hotel, her hair is somewhat different once again! her once-high ponytail has sunk into a medium-bordering-on-low pony. it’s interesting to note because her bun in the first act never seems to come undone or slip at all, but she has loosened up to the point wherein she’s fine with letting her hair slip.

then- Of Course— when they have fancy dinner and jamie is courting her like a gentleman, her hair is fully down! she’s also in a cute dress, which seems like a far cry from the marian we met at the beginning of the movie who was pulling up to dyke bars in silly, boxy blazers. (i could probably write a separate post on the wardrobing without thinking, honestly.)

after this, her hair is only kind-of up (as is jamie’s) when they get kidnapped. for the rest of the movie, it pretty much stays down. and naturally, in the final scene we get of them, her hair is down and done-up so pretty and she’s in another cute and less formal dress. WHOA!!! CHARACTER DEVLOPMENT!!!!!

also important to note that jamie clearly has a Thing for touching/playing with marian’s hair— her pulling marian closer by a hand in marian’s thick black locks + jamie twirling marian’s silly little ponytail around (she’s stimming guys she has ADHD).

plus, of course, the very sweet moment before they have sex wherein jamie is moving locks of marian’s hair out of the way as she’s undressing her so lovingly. i love the sex scene because it’s so soft and tender and acts as a breather for both us and the characters. you can tell marian is definitely at Peak relaxation here, just letting jamie undress her and go down on her, especially when she’s soooo blissed out from her orgasm that she falls asleep immediately after. they’re such sweethearts… sniff sniff.

marian’s whole hair progression was just something i noticed at one point and i was like WAIT! that’s GENIUS. also genius in the fact that geraldine has beautiful hair and is literally a pretty pretty princess, so seeing her be at Peak Princess only really at the end of the film feels like a reward. it’s such a change regardless, but one you can clearly see is coming from marian becoming more comfortable with herself and entering a relationship with jamie, who she’s always loved, a girl who has always loved marian as she is. gahd-damn it. i love this movie.

[mychlapci]

Prowl saying they should get rid of them? Nooo, the moment he suggests that Ratchet looks ready to throw hands, and if he didnt have an armful of bitlets he’d 100% beat the living daylights out of Prowl.

Maybe they switch every week once the second litter is old enough to spend more then a couple hours away from Megatron. Ratchet has the younger litter on the first week, everyone ends up loving the little guys- yet when they cry its just….sirens🚨. Extremely. Loud. Ambulance. Sirens. and then him and Megatron swap every sunday. The autobots trying to deal with demanding little brats once Ratchet has to parent the older bitties for the week, they bite, hiss and throw whatever their stubby arms can pick up, they’re strong for such tiny creatures, clearly their mix of genetics is the reason. But then they act like utter sweethearts for Ratchet so he doesnt believe any of the autobots saying his children are little twats because his sire-coding tells him they’re all trying to get his bitlets in trouble, tiny devils with bright blue optics and innocent-sounding giggles- innocent to Ratchet anyway.

They learn VERY quickly that Prowl shows the most emotion toward their shenanigans and he’s usually the one they annoy the most. Escaping whoever’s care their under when Ratchet has something important to and they escape JUST to annoy Prowl until he bluescreens or just drives off. I’d say something about lockdown / prowl but idk if it’d make sense but imagine prowl comes back from one of his little drives, those drives can last 4-5 days depending on how stressed he is, and he comes back pregnant. Anyway.

So naturally everyone fawns over the younger sparklings when its their turn to be round, Chubby cheeks with bright red optics is just too cute for even the most stubborn Autobots to ignore, so they get cuddles by everyone, ignoring that they carry the crazy warlord genes is hard, Even prowl interacts with these bitlets instead of the older hellspawns.

I really wanna draw the devil spawns, but like..I get so stressed drawing plus i almost broke my neck on some ice ;-;

SIDE RANT. Uh. Not really a rant I personally want to say that Burnt Ice anon seems to have a big brain thats really wrinkly because whatever they send gives the tingles, we need to make their ideas canon. 👍

- Chase anon, again im soo sorry i feel feral rn ;-;

I always enjoy the thought of grumpy, strict Ratchet being an absolute softie when it comes to his own bitlets. The older sparklings spent more time with Megatron so they're a little more hissy than the younger ones, which were born after Ratchet told everyone and therefore have been spending a little more time with him, and the autobots in general. But he loves all of them all the same. Oh, the older bitlets bit Prowl? No, they wouldn't do that! They're his bitlets, after all, and they've been raised with some manners, thank you very much! if they bit you, it was probably your own damn fault. He just coddles them so much that everyone is in complete disbelief that Ratchet even has that amount of kindness in him. 

Prowl eventually getting used to the younger bitlets because they're pretty sweet, all things considered, but the older ones he wishes would stay with Megatron. They're violent and they seem to only ever want to bite him. Of course, genocidal maniac genes carry on to all of the bitties, it's only a matter of time before the younger ones start causing trouble... Not to mention… Ratchet's pretty big and boxy. Megatron is twice as big and twice as boxy, so you know the bitlets are big, fat, and strong as hell. Menaces, the lot of them. 

Btw now i also kind of wanna draw the megaratch babies… i wish i had the time for it. and the art skills. oh well

[alwaysbethewest]

Narcos fic: Old Acquaintance

Happy New Year! This is my contribution to the @pickled-pena challenge. It was such a fun idea I couldn't resist trying to whip something up for it. I'm taking a Tumblr break for January so I'm actually scheduling this to post and I'm looking forward to seeing other people's fics when I get back 🥰 (or on AO3 before that!)

Because I'm apparently only capable of writing the exact same dynamic over and over, this is sort of a spiritual sequel to Where the Love Light Gleams, only set at New Year's instead of Christmas. 🤷‍♀️

Title: Old Acquaintance Pairing: Steve/Connie + Javier Rating: Teen Word count: 550 Content/warnings: Post-series, pre-OT3, alcohol, sappiness, Javi getting loved on. Unbetaed.

Steve isn’t a belligerent drunk, but he is an argumentative one.

“You stand there and accuse me,” he protests, “but where were you at the time?”

It’s New Year’s Eve and they’re not as young as they once were. Instead of finding a pretty girl at a dance club or a house party, Javi is spending the evening sprawled comfortably on the Murphys’ living room sofa, nursing vodka martinis and half-watching Dick Clark on the TV out of the corner of his eye. The volume is nearly muted, allowing their conversation to flow with the drinks, and they’ve now reached the stage of the evening where innocent observations are being taken as personal affronts.

“I have a witness,” Javi tells him.

Steve’s mouth gapes. He looks at Javi, then turns to where Connie is sitting, suspiciously silent.

She breaks.

“I’m sorry, honey. You know how Javier is. He smooth-talked me.”

Javi shoots her a wink and she stifles a laugh.

“That’s dirty,” Steve says, rounding on him again. “Getting a wife to testify against her husband. I would’ve thought better of you.”

“Really?” Javi asks. That finally makes Steve laugh.

“My mistake,” he says. “Hey, I’ll forgive you if you get me another drink.”

They’ve been through enough shit that Javi’s not too worried about his forgiveness by now, but he sees that Connie’s glass is empty, too, and he’s feeling charitable so he hauls himself off the couch and steps into the kitchen.

The vodka’s in the freezer but he takes it upon himself to switch Steve to beer. He digs through the fridge for a bottle of Corona and cracks it open.

When he settles back in the living room he sits on the floor at Connie’s feet.

“You guys have a lot of pickles,” he mentions. If Steve were sober, he thinks, he’d call him out sarcastically for making such a scintillating remark, but instead he just purses his lips and agrees with a solemn nod.

Connie’s hand touches the crown of his head, and then her fingers are sliding through his hair, nails scritching gently, distractingly, at his scalp. Javi’s eyes fall shut in contentment.

“I’m making cubanos tomorrow,” she tells them.

Both men groan in pleasure at the prospect.

“I might never leave if you keep feeding me like this,” Javi warns her. She tugs on a lock of his hair.

“That’s the goal, baby.”

“Me and Connie talked about it,” Steve says. “It’s our new year’s resolution, we’re gonna convince you to move out here.”

Javi laughs but it makes his chest go all warm inside, being wanted like that. Texas is home but it’s a little lonely, too. The familiar big skies and the landscape of his dad’s ranch only go so far in competing with this cozy living room, with its ugly carpeting and overstuffed couches and boxy TV and Connie’s hand in his hair.

Steve turns up the volume as the countdown for the ball drop begins. When the new year lands, he hears Steve’s happy new year muffled against Connie’s mouth, and then her hand slides down to cup his cheek and tilt his head back, and then they’re both attacking his face in a volley of kisses until the sound of their laughter drowns out Auld Lang Syne on the TV.

(teeny tiny tag list: @pedrostories, @littlemisspascal, @knittingqueen13, @by-ilmater, @loversandantiheroes, @pajamasecrets, @fleetwoodmactshirt, @mourningbirds1)

[deluxewhump]

Have you posted the Belle's a fake boxie story? Can we get those details? 👀

I haven’t I’ve just made notes about it 😩 I’d love to give some details that I have so far!

Belle (not her real name) decides she needs to give her whole life the slip really young— like 21, because of her half brother and some serious things she’d ended up witnessing that she shouldn’t have known anything about (organized crime on the west coast). But no one from this group has been caught or apprehended, so it’s not like she can testify against anyone and then go into some official witness protection program (she’d love to testify, but none of these people have been busted and she’s not about to go ask the FBI if they need some extra evidence to make arrests) plus even if she was able to go in the actual witness protection program it’s obviously very serious and there are family members she knows she would never see again… so her half brother, out of guilt, introduces her to someone who can help her fake WRU credentials and “hide out” as a boxie for a few years without actually surrendering herself to this really heinous organization. I know they pretend not to be heinous but this guy knows they are, maybe he even did work for them at one point. Not high up in their organization by any means, but he saw enough to know what goes on. He says if you’re ever thinking of doing that, don’t. He tells her some things about what they actually do if you sign up with them.

So she pretends to be a boxie and this guy actually finds and baits Amber for her as a buyer. He knows it’s becoming a bit of a trend, more people who wouldn’t normally be into this sort of human trafficking craziness are now, here’s a college girl on the east coast who wants a human pet as a lark. Just play along with her, keep your head down, avoid photos of you being taken or posted online if you can, and you’ll be absolutely fine. Cakewalk.

If the people whose crimes she is aware of ever get caught and enough time passes and she isn’t in any kind of danger anymore, she can ditch Amber and probably be able to safely reconnect with people from her life again on the west coast.

Amber ends up being a little more than she bargained for, but it’s manageable and a lot tamer than anything she probably would’ve ended up with going though the actual WRU. Amber is impatient and likes to throw money at whims and problems, she doesn’t like to pop the hood on situations if she can avoid it, so she doesn’t notice for months that something is up. Belle plays her role pretty well, and Amber didn’t do much research anyway so she doesn’t have very specific expectations like people who are more involved in the process with their boxies. (Belles guy actually did pick the perfect buyer for this)

Eventually, Belle’s behavior relaxes and Amber notices she seems to slip in and out of character. Her reactions are fake, delayed, or just wrong for a boxie. Amber compares notes with Cameron. She calls WRU for some info and gets a customer service number that is confused about this paperwork Amber is referring to. It looks pristine, but the numbers aren’t pulling up a file. They ask questions like - did you say this was a resale? Was it through an approved channel? Amber puts it together while she’s on the phone. She says she’s made a mistake and hangs up. But they flag her number and try to make several quality control/survey calls to her to make sure her product doesn’t need any tune-ups. They even send her mail, which Belle sees and opens, panicking. She tries to call her guy that faked her paperwork and got her in this, and his number has been disconnected.

Her biggest fear is Amber will say she needs some retraining and it will actually happen. WRU will pick her up as if she is one of theirs and that will be it, all the things she’s heard about will happen to her. She doesn’t know what sort of power they have, since she was never really theirs, but she knows they’re pretty powerful. Would they do something as shady as fake her intake info, force her to sign herself over to their care? Or would they just call the cops on her for impersonating their product? That would be the least of her worries.

In the following days, Amber can see Belle is anxious. Amber toys with Belle by answering a phone call from some spam number, but talks to them like it’s WRU calling and goes into the other room, shuts the door, that sort of thing. Eventually, she hints to Belle that she knows. Belle is actually terrified. Deer in the headlights. By this point, the two of them do have a sort of bond. It’s got ups and downs and trust issues because of the way Amber has behaved, but it’s not nothing. It’s been a while at this point that they’ve been together. And Amber is more eager to keep Belle around than she used to be. She feels increasingly uncertain and disillusioned with the direction of her life and has grown somewhat dependent on the comfort of belles presence.

“I don’t care,” Amber tells her. “I don’t know how you did it, but I don’t care. I’m not gonna tell them.” (But even by saying she won’t, she is reminding Belle that she could)

Belle wants to seek more reassurance on this, but she can’t exactly ask for a pinky promise without admitting that yes, Amber is right, she’s never set foot in a WRU facility. She stays quiet. Amber just laughs and says well, when you’re ready to talk about it, I’m dying to know how. And why.

Despite Amber trying to act nonchalant about it, it is Belle’s refusal to tell Amber why she did this to herself that they are fighting about when she drops her off with Cam in the last thing I wrote. That piece was an excuse to write some smut, but I also really like her interactions with Cam. Belle is in such rare form at this point that Cam also confronts her on the fact that she’s not a boxie. He’s known for a little bit too, since Amber had been telling him her suspicions.

[identifying-cars-in-posts]

Whaddya know about CRXs? I wan infodump plz

oh hell yeah, so the honda crx was released sometime in the early 80s, i wanna say like ‘83 or ‘84, sold as a trim level for the civic - i think it was its own model in japan but it was a civic in the states. it was a compact but also marketed as a front wheel drive sports car, and was great for winding backroads or auto cross because it was fucking tiny three door hatchback.

because it was so small and lightweight it had an amazing power to weight ratio that made it drive like a go kart, and on a platform that was really easy to modify for more power. there’s crxs out there making porsche horsepower numbers while weighing like 2000lbs, that’s REALLY a go kart on steroids.

they redesigned them in the early 90s and released them as the crx del sol, usually just called the del sol. it was based on the new civic at the time and i think in the states marketed as more of a civic than a crx. it was less boxy and not quite as much of a hatchback

it kept the same ethos though: front wheel drive, tiny and lightweight, with enough power to be fun even if it’s technically slow. similarly it was really easy to modify for even more power

the crx line was discontinued in i believe the late 90s when they stopped making the del sol. in 2010 or so honda introduced the crz, a hybrid sports compact that was clearly a bit of a spiritual successor, which was probably its biggest failing because it wasn’t able to fill those shoes. it was a cool car but the powertrain made it heavier and honda wanted to focus on its bigger hybrids so it was only around for about five years

and that’s the crx rant! i really love the del sol and want one, i think they’re really cute and cool and because it’s basically a civic they’re pretty damn reliable. cool little cars!

[carry-the-sky]

Hello hi are there any updates to the good omens Gilmore girls picnic basket au? I was thinking about it today (it is ok if there is not but if there is...)

kellyyyy light of my life my sun and stars ♡ i have about 4k written but have stalled out bc i need to rework some things. possibly the entire premise. 🙈 but a picnic fic of some variety WILL be happening at some point!! declaring this publicly so you can gently shame me later if it doesn't happen!!!!!!!!!!!!

a snippet just for you under the cut bc i love you for asking about this despite only tangentially going to this school:

“What about this one?” Aziraphale says, snatching the closest basket and waving it in front of him.

Crowley peers at it over his glasses. “Outstanding. The picnic hamper to rule them all.” “Really, Crowley, if you aren’t going to help—” “I’m helping! I like the boxy one.” “They’re all boxy.” Crowley pops up on his elbows, causing his glasses to slide further down his nose. In the late-afternoon light, his eyes are like amber. “I’d bid on that one,” he says, pointing to the lace-trimmed basket. “You would?” Crowley shrugs. “It looks sturdy. And it’s, y’know. Nice to look at, I suppose. With the…” He waggles his fingers at the lace. “Yeah, it’s nice.” “Nice,” Aziraphale repeats. “Objectively-speaking!” Crowley makes a face. “Eugh, forget it.”  “No, no,” Aziraphale insists solemnly, trading the basket in his hands for the one Crowley indicated. He runs a thumb over the trim. “You make some persuasive points. I may have judged this one too hastily.” “Occupational hazard?” Crowley grumbles. “And besides,” Aziraphale continues brightly, “it’s not as if anyone will actually be bidding on me. I suppose you were right, after all. At the end of the day, the aesthetics of the thing hardly—” “Hang on,” Crowley cuts in. “What do you mean, no one will be bidding on you?” Aziraphale gives the basket in his hands one final glance-over, nods appreciatively, then flourishes a hand. The remaining baskets vanish, returned to one of the bookshop’s many storage closets. “I mean precisely that, obviously.” Crowley sits upright. “Angel. You’re not planning to bid on yourself, are you?” “Certainly not,” Aziraphale scoffs, mildly horrified. “Everyone else, however, may find themselves miraculously uninterested in bidding on me, as it were. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Crowley. I’m treating myself, as the young people say.” Crowley barks a laugh, tossing his glasses to the other side of the sofa. “Let me see if I have this right. You willingly volunteered for this ridiculous shindig, which is for charity, by the way. Went to the trouble of procuring nibbles that are to your satisfaction. Hemmed and hawed over a basket. And now you’re gonna rig the whole thing so that you have an excuse to eat all the food you could've just had whenever you felt like it." “Yes, and there’s really no need to make a fuss.” “And you dragged me into it! I’m an accessory!”  “Well, now you’re just being dramatic,” Aziraphale mumbles, but the words latch in him like a hook. All this time spent on Earth, living amongst the humans in their messy, chaotic glory, living like he was one of them— it seems that some of their vices have indeed rubbed off. Greed, for starters; one of the Big Ones. Gluttony, too. Perhaps he truly has, oh, what’s the phrase? Gone native. Then again, a very tiny voice in his head pipes up, would that really be so awful? It all happened so quickly, is the thing. The Armageddon-that-wasn’t. Rushing to save the world, then save themselves; Aziraphale supposes that neither one of them have thought to stop and consider the full implication of going freelance, so to speak. But these past few days have been a welcome change of pace from the status quo. More than that, actually they’ve been…well, heavenly. No blessings to dole out, no wiles in need of thwarting. No one to answer to. He’s frightfully certain that he could spend the rest of his existence like this, free to do whatever he likes, whenever he likes. The thought both thrills and terrifies him.

[gingerbreadmonsters]

easy pickings

or: it just goes to show, you never can tell!

gn!reader, big big murder and body horror warnings, pure fluffy fantasy but make it gory. get the shotgun - we’re having a wedding! much love to the gang on discord for putting up with my endless rants about how cute these two are - i can’t promise this will make it stop, but it should keep me going for a little while. inspired by ain’t nobody here but us chickens from the musical five guys named moe, and you never can tell by chuck berry. tomorrow, when you say ‘i do’, i’ll die. vega tying the knot in 12,900 words or less.

content warnings: weddings i guess, death and dead bodies, mild injury description (the injury does NOT happen to the reader character), vega does some murders (and warden is definitely into it 👀), HEAVY body horror re: demons changing form, this is CERTAINLY sacrilegious if you like churches, no seriously i mean it, if you are especially christian i suggest that you might want to skip this one because you may very well be offended. this is a story about very bad people doing very bad things. this is a fictional story about people who aren’t real. i don’t condone or encourage this behaviour in real life.

warden’s body is not described at all, and gender-neutral pronouns are used throughout to describe them. for the sake of plot, they do wear a dress and high-heeled shoes, and are referred to with feminine terms (including ‘bride’ and ‘princess’) and a feminine name at some points, but it is made very clear that this is for a plot-relevant disguise - NOT because warden themselves necessarily identifies that way. if those things make you uncomfortable, then please do not feel obligated to read - i won’t be upset! 

this fic contains graphic content that may not be suitable or appropriate for readers under the age of 18. reader discretion is heavily advised. dead dove: do not eat. as always, i encourage you to stop reading at any point if you feel as though you may become uncomfortable or upset. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. thank you.

also, before i forget, the song the organist is playing is mendelssohn’s wedding march, from a midsummer night's dream. that’s not important, it’s just for anyone who was curious. 

series masterlist

main masterlist

Small towns are very exciting, you know.

Well, maybe not for everyone. There’s not too much that happens here. But for you, they’re very interesting indeed.

For the last few months, you’ve been lying low in one of the empty houses on this street. The town is much, much smaller than Dahlia, so it’s been a lot more difficult to stay unnoticed, but you’ve been really trying your best. The people seem nice, but you know better than to let them have a proper conversation with you - you’ve never quite mastered the art of human small talk, and there are a few things about you and Vega that you’re fairly sure they’d rather not know.

(To be honest, you’re not sure if this house had actually been empty when Vega got here, but you’d been out exploring the rest of the town at the time, so you don’t know for sure.)

(You haven’t seen any suspicious bloodstains yet, and you don’t mention it when he comes out of the basement and locks the door behind him, looking suspiciously well-fed. You’re giving him the benefit of the doubt.)

It’s much nicer than the safehouse, which is exciting. Human houses have lots of stuff that you’ve never really seen before, so you’ve been quite enjoying working out what all the different things are. Vega helps you sometimes, when he recognises one of the things you don’t know, but mostly there’s a lot of looking things up on the computer.

You’d been living in Department-funded accommodation before, and although it had been very convenient, you hadn’t really known what sort of things humans normally put in their houses. This one has all kinds of things - like a funny little rug made of bristles that goes outside next to the front door and says WELCOME on it, or a black boxy thing in the living room that lights up when you press the special remote and lets you play computer games on the television screen.

Mm, it’s nice, living in a human house. It’s so big, too! There’s an upstairs and a downstairs that are all part of the same house, and there are so many comfy things to sit on. So far, you’ve tried sitting on all of the beds, the sofa, both of the armchairs in the living room, the beanbag in one of the bedrooms, and most of the chairs at the kitchen table. In your opinion, the sofa is the best one, but you brought the beanbag downstairs to go next to the sofa in case you want some variety.

There used to be pictures in the picture frames, but Vega got rid of them not long after you moved in. He said there was no point in keeping them, because the humans who used to live here are being kept down in the - the, uh-

- um, anyway, they’re gone now, and why would you want pictures in your house of people you don’t even know? Instead, you’ve been taking your own with the camera you found on one of the shelves, and it’s all very exciting.

Taking pictures is easier as you thought it would be, actually. You have to stay very still so that it doesn’t go all blurry, and things always seem to turn out a slightly different colour than they are in real life, but it’s nice that there don’t seem to be any rules about it whatsoever. You can take pictures of whatever you want!

There’s one of the house, and of Vega, and of the view down the street from the upstairs window. You’ve even got a close-up of one of those funny flowers, the kind that keep growing in the front garden and look like little round clouds - you had to hold your breath when you took that one, so that you didn’t accidentally blow all the little white bits away.

You’ve started bringing the little camera everywhere, just in case there’s something interesting to look at. Once, you took it to the supermarket - there’s always quite a few people in there, so you can generally find something tasty to eat - and you spent almost an hour taking pictures of all the different displays. They’re always so brightly coloured, and the fruits and vegetables always look so shiny. It’s very nice.

Life is so different in this little town. There’s so few people, which makes it so quiet. Part of that might be because you’re not working anymore - you help Vega when he asks you, but other than that it sometimes feels like you and Vega are the only people for a hundred million miles. It’s like it’s faster and slower all at the same time. You’re not quite sure how to explain it.

Naturally, you’ve been passing the time by watching daytime television.

It’s so funny! Humans seem to love these shows, and they play them at all hours of the day, every day of the week. They have big glitzy game shows, full of lights and screens, where they ask the contestants about all these bizarre topics - you don’t generally know what they’re talking about, but they’re weirdly fun to watch. And talk shows - they love these programmes where some people just sit around and… talk to each other. That’s all! They just chat and chat about nothing, but it’s so entertaining that you can’t help but keep listening.

The television really is amazing. You can watch sitcoms, which are videos of people in different places reciting jokes while an invisible audience laughs at them, or reality TV, which definitely doesn’t live up to its name. Sometimes you watch sports matches, but it tends to be quite tricky - for some reason, they never explain the rules. You have to search up the rules on the computer, then cross-reference those with whatever’s happening on the screen, and it’s all a bit of a mess. If you’re honest, you’re starting to think that they’re just making it up when they say someone’s ‘offside’.

The most useful ones are probably the soap operas. You have no idea where the name comes from - there’s rarely any soap, and you’ve yet to see any opera singing - but they seem to be a sort of documentary, all about humans. There’s much more drama than you’d imagined, and all sorts of things that humans do that you had no idea about.

Watching these soap operas for the first time, you’d been a bit worried that it was all a bit too unfamiliar. What if one of the neighbours asks you a question about going to a cafe, or baseball players, or laundry techniques? As a precaution, you’ve taken to watching one or two episodes of your favourites every evening, to help you blend in.

That’s how you’d ended up watching that.

What’s the matter, dearest? He’d been upstairs, but you’d felt his magic brushing against your aura all the same.

Hmm? No, it’s nothing.

It’s something, darling, he’d replied, raising an eyebrow. I can feel your longing from here. Did they die in your computer game again?

No, it’s - this one’s just the normal television show thing, you’d explained. He’s normally quite good with these things, but he can never seem to tell the difference between when you’re using the television to play a game or watch a programme. They didn’t die, they just…

He’d come down the stairs and into the room at that, staring curiously at you with your eyes glued to the screen, before realising what you were looking at. Oh.

They look so happy, you’d sighed, watching the human couple on the screen. Don’t you think?

He’d shrugged, slightly too nonchalantly for you to entirely believe him. I suppose, yes.

Humans have such funny ideas about being in love. Tucking your legs to the side to make room for him, you’d let him come around to sit next to you on the sofa. Do they all have to have a big party like this before they can start kissing?

No, darling, he’d explained. This is a human wedding. It’s very special for them.

But… You’d been confused, looking up at him briefly before turning back to the television. I thought they said it was a 'marriage'?

That’s what they call the thing that happens at a wedding, little one. Do you see those two there?

He’d pointed at the couple talking in the middle, and you’d nodded. Yeah. Those are the ones the marriage is for, right?

Correct. Weddings happen so that humans can ‘get married’ to each other, and then they become what humans call a ‘married couple’. ‘Marriage’ is the process that those two humans are going through, and ‘wedding’ is the name for the celebration.

Oh, okay. Once he’d explained it, it made a lot more sense - you’d been under the impression that ‘marriages’ and ‘weddings’ were two separate things altogether. But humans can be together all the time, can’t they? So what are human weddings even for?

I… You’d felt his uncertainty as he tried to come up with an explanation, and it had dawned on you slightly too late that Vega may not be the best person to ask when it comes to matters of the heart. Unless, of course, the matter is that you want it to stop beating.

I’m told it’s a… declaration. Of love.

Like kissing?

Yes, darling, like kissing, he’d laughed. They do that at weddings quite a lot, I believe. It means that they want to be together until they die.

Is that what all kisses mean, for humans? You remember being shocked, when he’d said that. Humans kiss all the time, on the television. Who would have thought that such short-lived creatures as humans would be so nonchalant about dying? Wow. Human courtships are so… intense.

Well, I think that’s what they mean… Vega had trailed off, uncertainty blooming in his aura again as the humans on the television started talking again. Fortunately, I can’t say I have much experience when it comes to kissing humans.

Weren’t they married, though? you’d asked, only to be met with a confused stare. Ivan and the… the other one?

What? He’d been so surprised, even though you’d thought it was a perfectly fair question. No, of course not. That was the whole point.

So you don’t have to be married to kiss someone?

He’d looked down at you, thoroughly puzzled by your entirely rational questions. I kiss you, don’t I? And we’re not married.

Well - yeah, but we’re not humans, you’d shrugged. I thought the rules might be different for them.

Irritatingly, he’d had the gall to laugh when you said that, tail curving around your back to rest around your middle. Do I look like the sort of demon who’s intimately familiar with the rules of human courting behaviour?

You know all kinds of weird stuff, you’d replied, poking him gently in the ribs before giving in and shifting to fully rest your weight against his side. How would I know which things you know and which things you don’t?

I have much better things to remember than the web of intrigue that undoubtedly surrounds the intricacies of human courtship, believe me.

Such as?

Now, that would be telling, he’d said, lips pressing gently against the smooth curve of your horn once - twice - three times, before pulling you more insistently into his lap, leaning back against his chest. Although, I’m sure I can think of something I do know, if you’d prefer.

Something you know… You’d only been half-focused on the screen from that point, watching dreamily as the little pixelated humans exchanged little pixelated rings, smiling as Vega’s fangs dragged sweetly over your neck. Would you say you’re especially familiar with it?

Oh, intimately.

A tiny spark of pain, melting into pleasure as he bit down a little harder, and you hadn’t really paid much attention to the television after that.

(It hadn’t stopped you thinking about it, though.)

In Aria, getting married isn’t really, like, a thing. It’s a very human concept, if you’re honest - humans like to have all these little ceremonies and gatherings for each other. You’ve seen some of them on the television, and you used to hear your old coworkers talking about them sometimes, but you’ve never been invited to anything like that.

There’s so many that it’s hard to keep track of them all, too. You know that you’re supposed to wear black clothes and cry when you go to a ‘funeral’, and that a ‘Valentine’s Day’ means that everything has to be all pink and red, and you have to do lots of kissing and eat lots of chocolates and flowers. Or maybe you’re meant to grow flowers? It all sounds very complicated.

For a while, ‘birthdays’ were your favourite because they always seem to involve some sort of special, tasty cake, but apparently there are lots of other rituals that have cake too…? Like - oh, what are they called again? - ‘housewarmings’? Or was that ‘baby’s showers’? There’s quite a lot to choose from, so you’re sort of in between favourites at the moment.

In any case, demons don’t really have a concept of ‘marriage’. Love, in general, is quite difficult for you to wrap your head around at all - it just doesn’t come quite as naturally to you as it seems to do for humans.

Vega says it’s probably something to do with the way your two species originated - humans had to evolve on their own and needed to stay in big groups to survive, so they had to find a way of keeping each other attached to the group. Demons, created by the Sovereigns, strong with magic and with no natural predators, tend to be much more solitary. You’re not sure if you entirely believe his explanation, but it’s the best you’ve got.

That’s not to say that demons can’t feel love. You can feel just as many things as humans can - and you would argue that you feel some things much more deeply than humans do.

If a human ever felt the way you feel about Vega, you think their body would burst into flame right then and there. Everybody knows that magic is tied inextricably to emotion, and your body is literally made of the stuff, but sometimes you think you might just melt away into nothing, falling apart into your astral form at nothing more than a glance from him.

It’s too much - he’s too much. You were made to know emotions, to grow them and eat them and hold them, but every time it’s like the first. His words in your mind and his hand in yours and his lips on your simulated skin - he turns you into a fizzing, sparking wreck, flooded with love and full of bubbles.

Melting, or maybe overflowing. A human could never understand.

That being said…

Demons might not approach love in the same way as humans do. But, if it were with him, you think it might be nice to try.

Plus, he makes it sound… nice. The next day, you’d gone on the computer and looked up all sorts of information about human weddings. What they mean, where they happen, what people do when they’re there. There were lots of different websites that all said different things, but after a while you got the gist of it.

Vega was right - they’re like big parties with lots of flowers and cake, and it’s all to celebrate two people being in love forever. They wear special clothes so they look all pretty, and make each other special promises to never ever be apart, and give each other special rings so that everybody in the whole world knows that they’re very very in love.

It sounds wonderful.

(It’s a little bit embarrassing to say out loud, but if Vega ever gave you a ring like that, you don’t think you’d ever take it off.)

You’re not brave enough to ask him to his face. What if he says no? Maybe he’ll think it’s all just a stupid human custom, maybe he’ll think it would be an insult to his demonic nature. Maybe he won’t feel the same, maybe he’d never want something like that with you. God, you’d never be able to look him in the eye again if he said that.

Luckily, telepathy comes quite naturally to you two.

Vega?

Yes, dearest? He must pick up on your nervousness from downstairs, and you can feel the ward around the house ripple slightly as he checks it. What’s the matter?

I was thinking about, um… Your hands twist in your lap, claws picking at the fabric of your shirt and tail brushing anxiously over the bedspread behind you. I was thinking about those human marriages again. From that programme last week.

The wedding you showed me? I remember.

Here we go. Did you like it?

Did I… what?

You know, the - the thing they did, you say hesitantly, gesturing vaguely in front of you like he can see you. With the talking and the flowers and stuff.

With the… You don’t even need to see - you can picture the puzzled look on his face as clear as anything. Darling, I’m - I’m not sure what you mean.

He must be able to feel it by now, the way your heart races in your chest as your body tries desperately to catch up with whatever strange, tangled rush of emotions is running through you. Like the thing where they were in the room, the big room with all the people in, when - oh, it - I just - it’s - do you - wait-!

You hear footsteps coming up the stairs and panic, throwing up a haphazard ward across the door in case he tries to come in. It won’t stop him rifting, but hopefully he’ll get the message.

Sweetheart, you-

Just - just forget about it, you mumble, tucking your knees to your chest and curling your tail tightly around your ankle in shame. It was always a stupid idea. It’s fine.

I don’t think it is. Vega’s aura, at the top of the stairs but not coming any closer. I can feel it, little one. What’s got you so worked up, hmm?

Magic bouncing softly against the door, testing the edges of your ward, but you still won’t let him in. Your face burns at the realisation that he really isn’t going to let this go - fuck, now you’ll have to say it…

I want - I thought-

Thank goodness you don’t actually have to form the words physically. Speaking like a human is complicated enough as it is, let alone when it’s about something as awkward as this.

Just… if that was ever something that - that you might… want. For, um - for us.

Silence.

Like, a long silence.

Sitting there, getting more and more nervous, you’re tripping over yourself trying to backpedal. And obviously you don’t have to say anything - it’s kind of a stupid idea, anyway - ‘cause, like, they’re humans and we’re demons and it’s not even that important and it would probably just be a bad idea and we - we wouldn’t - it’s just a silly human custom - it’s not - you’re right, we shouldn’t - it’s only if-

Darling.

A single claw tilts your face up from where it’s buried against your legs, and all of a sudden Vega’s right there, standing in front of you by the side of the bed. He must have - god, he must have rifted in while you were distracted with your rambling - fuck, what’s he going to say…

Little one, is that… You can’t meet his gaze, so caught up in your own swirling storm of agitation that you can’t even begin to tell what he’s feeling.

Is that something you want? With me?

Thoroughly humiliated, you turn your head away, fangs digging painfully into your lip. Oh, can’t he just know? He always knows! Why does he have to make you say it?

Answer me, darling.

Eyes closed, magic burns under your skin as you give the tiniest, tiniest nod.

Yeah.

And now, well…

Now he knows. And now you’re going to have to figure out what the hell you’re going to do when he inevitably starts laughing, because honestly, why would someone like Vega - Vega! - ever in a thousand million years want to marry someone like you? Now, you’ll have to try and fix this, make him forget it ever happened or that you ever even entertained the thought that a demon might want - would want - could want to get married, crush down that horrible, biting, burning feeling in your chest that you know means-

“Mmf-!!”

Suddenly, you’re not on the bed anymore - well, you are, but not sitting up like you were before. A strong arm looped around your waist, his other hand cradling the back of your head as the world blurs around you, and before you can even blink you’re pinned flat on your back by the weight of Vega’s body as he kisses you down into the bed.

This was - you - mmm…

Buried in the warmth and the press and the need of him, it takes your brain a minute to catch up before you timidly kiss him back. What’s he doing?

He’s all you can feel as he clutches you against him, strangely urgent, pulling you up and pushing you down all at once as the mattress creaks quietly beneath you. Stunned fingers twist hesitantly in the sides of his shirt as he licks viciously into your mouth - you’re too surprised to resist the tug of his tail around your thigh, wrapping around and around just above your knee, hitching your leg up over his hip.

It doesn’t make sense. Why’s he doing this? Pity?

He must be trying to let you down gently. And it’s very kind of him, it really is - but the thought makes something small and sad curl up in your stomach somewhere, and it’s with a tiny sigh that your fingers slowly let go of his shirt and you push him back.

Only that doesn’t happen - it’s what you were trying to do, but somehow he doesn't let you go. You jolt in surprise at the frustrated snarl that shudders through him, crushing his chest down to yours, one hand finding your wrists and pinning them up above your head.

Darling, you…

All you have to do is ask, you know that? He sounds breathless, even though he doesn’t need to breathe. You only ever, ever have to ask.

You don’t understand. Partly because he’s doing that thing with his tongue that he knows you like, but mostly because he’s not making any sense. I, uh - what?

Marry me.

His hand slides down from your wrists, claws trailing lightly along your arm, before slipping under your chin to cup your jaw. Marry me, and then you can tell me if you like it or not.

Really? Your eyes fly open, sitting up slightly and breaking the kiss as you beam up at him. You really mean it?

Well, it’s probably not a very traditional proposal, but… He pretends to think, before giving in and kissing you again. I wouldn’t say we’re especially conventional at the best of times.

You can’t stop smiling as he gathers you up in his arms, purring happily into the side of his neck, tail enthusiastically flicking back and forth behind you. Mm, it’s good enough for me.

That’s my warden, he murmurs into your mind, thick with affection. My little romantic.

He heads back downstairs with a promise to talk about it more later - after he leaves the room, you fall back onto the bed with a giddy grin and your tummy full of butterflies. If he can feel your excitement from the living room, he doesn’t mention it.

You’re getting married. Married! You, a demon! Oh, this is much more exciting than Wheel of Fortune.

The next morning, you’re having a glass of apple juice in the kitchen when Vega comes in behind you, bending down to give you a kiss before getting himself a drink as well.

I’ve given it some thought, he says, peering at the various juice cartons you’ve lined up in the fridge. Neither of you need to eat or drink anything, and you could just as easily make it with magic if you did, but it’s all part of the show.

(If television has taught you anything, it’s that everybody’s neighbours are always watching them, all the time. In order to keep up the charade, you make sure to go and bring back shopping from the supermarket once a week, and hang up clothes on the washing line outside when it’s sunny, and water the flowers in the front garden when it hasn’t rained for a while.)

You hum quietly in acknowledgement. How so?

Logistics.

Go on.

How soon were you thinking? He waves a hand at the cabinet on the other side of the room, summoning one of the glasses from the shelf inside, before emerging from the fridge with the carton of cranberry juice in hand.

Taking a sip of your juice, you consider the question - although to be honest, you already know what you want the answer to be. How soon can it be?

Properly? Never. He inclines his head slightly at your raised eyebrow, the picture of resigned disappointment. You forget how few rights demons have here, my love.

Weren’t they trying to make it legal? I thought I saw something about a case going to court a few months ago.

As far as I know, there’s been no verdict yet. And even if there is, who knows how long the Department will drag its feet to make it law? He finishes pouring the juice into his glass, before putting it back on the shelf and closing the fridge door. Besides, that case is about a demon and a human, not two demons. I suspect any attempt to make that legal in Elegy would be thoroughly rejected by a human court, simply on the basis that it’s a demonic affair that has nothing to do with them.

Damn. So not any time soon, then.

Not legally, no.

Annoyed, you take another sip. And illegally?

Well, I did look into it… He trails off with that infuriating grin painted across his face, tail swishing lazily back and forth in a way that you can only describe as supremely self-satisfied. Although I’m terribly offended at the insinuation. Breaking the law? Me?

Vega.

I’m not even sure I’d be capable of such a thing, really. I mean, do I look like a criminal to you? He shakes his head in righteous disapproval, smirking over the top of his glass, and he’s so, so punchable right now. Where on earth did you get that idea from?

Silently, you pull a drinking straw out of thin air, dropping it in your glass and finishing your drink with a long, irritated sluuuuuurp.

He laughs under his breath for a second longer, but relents at your flat, distinctly impatient glare.

Tomorrow.

…Okay, that’s not what you thought he was going to say.

You - you’re not-

Taken aback, it takes you a few seconds to string a reply together. You’d been expecting him to say something like a few weeks, or a month - not a day.

Very funny, you manage, through a smile that hopefully doesn’t look as confused as it feels. You’re joking.

Did it sound like a joke? He lifts the glass to his mouth as he speaks, swallowing another mouthful of juice. I’m serious. Tomorrow.

He doesn’t feel like he’s lying. Which, to be fair, doesn’t actually tell you much - he’s far too good at it for you to ever really know. And - just to make it clear, that’s fine. You’re used to it now. It’s kind of a trust-based thing.

(There’s probably some sort of ethical dynamite in there somewhere, but that’s beside the point.)

(...Look, it’s pragmatic, not foolproof. You’ve been trying not to think about it.)

You have a plan?

He pauses.

Of sorts.

Then tell me. The empty glass is warm as you turn it over and over in your hands. What is it?

His words are slower, decidedly measured as he holds your gaze. It’s not the sort of plan you like.

Why not? This doesn’t sound good. Behind you, the glass clatters against the countertop as you blindly put it down. Vega, why won’t I like it?

He doesn’t answer, slow steps across the kitchen until he’s right in front of you. Close, so close - but he doesn’t touch you, though. It’s weird. Your hands feel too cold.

How do you feel about humans dying?

Ah.

Right, okay. It’s that sort of plan.

I… It takes you a long moment to think about it, but eventually you reply. It depends.

Vega’s eyes narrow, ever so slightly. Just like that, you’re playing the game again. On what?

Do I know them?

He shakes his head. No.

Is it painful?

A little.

You’re intrigued. What did they do?

Nothing. He’s blank, carefully neutral. They’re just… in the way.

You’re not that stupid. In our way, you mean.

Does it bother you? he asks, placing his glass on the counter and reaching down to take your hands gently in his. It’s a distraction, and it works. If I told you that a hundred humans would have to die so that I could marry you tomorrow, would you say yes?

Closing your eyes, you drop your head forward against his shoulder. This isn’t a hypothetical, is it?

He doesn’t flinch, hands still holding yours. Lightly, he kisses the top of your head.

No.

So he really is telling the truth, then.

Objectively, you know what to say. It’s wrong. You know it’s wrong. It’s selfish and callous and a horrible, awful waste of human life. You’d feel terrible - it would be terrible. All those people, just… gone, snatched out of existence in a single, terrifying moment, just because you can’t be bothered to wait for a wedding that doesn’t actually mean anything.

But that’s not true, is it?

Because it does mean something - it means everything. This feeling, this craving, this aching burning starving need that howls inside you. It won’t stop, it can’t be stopped. Curled up and crammed in your chest, throwing itself desperately against the cruel confines of your physical body, and then the very borders of your astral mind.

All day, all night - it just kicks and thrashes and cries out for him him him, for the weight of his arms around your body and the kiss of his thoughts and the shape of his stars on your skin. There’s no controlling this anymore - you know it, can’t stop knowing it. He’s all that matters for you now.

It had been awful, back then. You hadn’t known what to call it. The seed of a feeling, warm and floating and be still, darling, I’m already taking care of it, set aflame and monstrously hungry. Has anyone else ever felt like this before? They must have died like this, they couldn’t possibly have gone on like this, every moment being swallowed up by this screeching, wretched craving.

You’d learnt that humans call it love, but it’s not enough for him. There can’t be words for how this feels.

Yes, it’s wrong. But you’re finally - finally! - figuring out what to call this feeling, finding out how good it feels to let it win, and you can’t just give that up, can you? You don’t know them, and you don’t really care to know. They’re just humans. There are plenty more where they came from.

And anyway, haven’t you had this dilemma before? Vega was right, when he said that human morality didn’t have to mean anything to you. You’re not human, and you don’t have to pretend you are anymore. Watering yourself down for the sake of a handful of humans isn’t worth it.

You deserve to be happy. The rest isn’t your problem.

Then yes. One hand slides up into his hair to pull him down to you, thin, shallow scratch marks trailing behind your fingers, while your other arm locks around his waist. Yes, I want this. And I don’t want to wait.

And just like that, the game becomes a dance.

He bends easily enough to your grip, but the look in his eyes is cold and serious. Humans will die.

You shrug, nonchalant. They’ll die anyway.

We’ll be hunted.

The air is getting thinner. We already are.

You’ll be a murderer.

The walls are getting closer. I already am.

Your impatience will kill them.

Frustrated, you dig your claws in properly this time, fangs bared in a snarl. And your hesitation will kill me.

His hands, warm and heavy on your hips. Apple juice, sweet and sticky and sliding down your throat. The smile breaks across his face, wicked and cruel and ever so handsome, and you know you’ve got him.

Then marry me tomorrow, my little warden, and I’ll kill a thousand humans for you.

You lean up to kiss his cheek, totally content. Only if I get to watch.

You’ll do more than watch, he replies, knocking his horns gently against yours, and you like where this is going. It’s no fun if you don’t get your hands dirty.

If you wanted me to get my hands dirty, you should have just said.

Don’t say things you don’t mean, darling. The coolness of the countertop presses into your back as he leans forward, and your heart flutters as he scrapes his fangs over your neck. You might give me all sorts of ideas.

The rest of the day, once you’ve finished, um, brainstorming, is spent sorting out the finer points of the plan. It turns out he was mostly lying about killing all those humans - technically, you only need two for it to work. That’s how you’re thinking of doing it, although you can always change your mind.

The plan is… actually, it’s not that complicated. Not really.

Everyone on the computer had said that planning one of these weddings would be really difficult and would take ages, but that must be if you’re planning it from scratch. You'd need money, a proper address, some sort of fake human identification, the special clothes and the special room and the special party…

That’s far too much effort, in your opinion. Who even has the time for all that?

Luckily, there’s nothing a little magic can’t fix.

A small town means that there's no Department facilities here, and not really any empowered people here who might be able to spot you - that’s one of the reasons why you came here in the first place. It’s a big relief not to have to worry about all that. Plus, if anyone empowered were to come looking after the fact, this place is so out of the way that any traces of magic would have long-faded.

Thank goodness for that, and for a demon’s natural affinity for unfocused telepathy. Your range isn't quite wide enough, but Vega could probably listen in on half the town from your kitchen window if he tried hard enough.

Ready, my love?

Even from all the way over here, you can see that the churchyard is a flurry of activity. There are humans everywhere, rushing in and out of doors with flowers and ribbons and fairy lights left and right. The whole affair is practically soaked in a strange mixture of stress and excitement, so strong you can taste it from across the road, and you watch as a harried-looking lady with an armful of candles runs into the church like she’s being chased. What on earth…?

Yeah. I think so.

Looking over at your… oh, what’s it called again? Rosé? Is that what you’re meant to call him? Or is it the one that starts with - no, that’s attaché - or the one with the two e’s - no, that’s negligée - oh, whatever the word is, that’s what he is now.

Anyway, he’s very handsome. That’s all you wanted to say.

(Fiancé! That’s the one.)

I believe the one you need should be in one of the rooms over there, Vega says, inclining his head towards one of the buildings next to the church. Do you remember what you’re looking for?

You nod, pleased. A happy lady with a white dress.

(This particular wedding is for a lady and a gentleman, and you’re hoping it won’t be too difficult to find them. All of the men are wearing suits, and you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart - Vega’s a bit better at that sort of thing, so he’s off to find the groom. Meanwhile, you’ve got to find the bride, but the fact that she should be the only one wearing a white dress should make your job a bit easier.)

Good. The cloaking magic ripples under his touch as he takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips and kissing the backs of your fingers. I’ll come and get you when I’m finished, alright?

See you in a bit.

You wave as he walks off, before heading over to the building he’d pointed out. As you pass the front of the churchyard, you have a quick look at what’s going on in there - it’s all still very busy, and two or three of the humans look like they might be about to come to blows over some sort of floral arrangement.

The clothes everyone is wearing are much more interesting than normal. Most are dressed quite smartly, lots of suits and long dresses and sparkly jewellery. Some of the ladies are even wearing big, brightly coloured hats that are perched at such a silly angle, they must be stuck on with magic. How else are they staying on?

Unseen, you phase through the door of the building, following the sounds of chatter through the hallways and up the stairs. There are people wandering back and forth doing all sorts of things - some are carrying trays of little bite-sized snacks, some are laden with flowers, and one or two are running around with cameras like the one you have at home, taking pictures of everything.

It’s quite fun, looking at all the people, sneaking around all invisible like this. It’s like being a secret spy!

The sound gets louder and louder, until you turn the corner and find a gaggle of ladies all hanging around in one of the rooms, chittering away. You’re still cloaked, so they can’t see you - curiously, you walk through the open doorway to see what all the fuss is about.

“Oh my god, don’t turn the air conditioning on! I’m, like, freezing already…”

“Do you have tissues?”

“No, no, you look amazing… Yeah, so pretty…”

“What do you mean, pink? I thought you said it was purple!”

“It’s literally not even that hot!”

“Did you bring flats?”

“I already called - he said they’re coming with her cousin.”

…It’s pretty loud, up close.

There are quite a few people in here - some in all black wielding hair combs and makeup sponges, one stressed-looking one who looks about five seconds away from absolutely clattering someone with her clipboard, and about five or six ladies milling around in matching pink dresses, fiddling with each other’s nails and moving various bunches of flowers from one flat surface to another.

These must be the bridesmaids, which means…

“Did you get my iced coffee already?”

…that must be the bride.

She’s sort of standing in the middle of everything, turning this way and that in front of the big mirror on the far side of the room, being poked and brushed and clipped from seemingly every angle. It looks like they’re just finishing off, though, as she grabs the plastic cup of presumably-coffee with one hand and takes a big sip through the straw, while waving away the person pinning flowers into her hair with the other.

Lady, check. White dress, check. Happy? Well, she gets a big rush of dopamine from the mouthful of coffee, so that’s basically the same thing.

Time’s probably starting to run a little short, if the panicked look on one of the bridesmaid’s faces when she checks her phone is any indication, so you’ll have to make this quick. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, and reach for the bride’s mind.

“I said I wanted - I said - I-”

Unfortunately, you must be out of practice - you manage to grab most of it, but the bit you can’t quite reach starts to panic as she feels herself freeze. You wince at the carpet-burn feeling of friction in her head, her mind desperately thrashing against itself in confusion as it tries to fend you off, but luckily she’s not magical. You’ll have her in another second.

“I want - I said - it’s not-”

She stutters over her sentence as you fight for control, and you swear under your breath as the magic slips out from underneath you again. Why is this woman so resistant?

“Can you just…” She trails off, suddenly tongue-tied, and you curse silently as her mind drops through your fingers again. “I need - I can’t - please, please, I-”

Vega’s good with panic, but you’ve always found it difficult - it’s making her mind all slippery and liquid, shiny and slick and falling out of your hands every time you try to grab it. Gritting your teeth, you make another grab for those last few bits of her consciousness, and-

“I said I’m fine.”

Got her.

“Just leave me alone. I want to be alone right now.”

Her brain screams at you when you make her say it, but she can’t do anything about it. You make her face smile at the lady with the clipboard, who thankfully seems to take the hint and starts herding everyone else out.

After about a minute or so of back-and-forth, the room is finally empty.

Hello.

You’re already in her mind, so you might as well speak there. The cloaking fizzles away to reveal you, standing behind her in the mirror, and if she could move, you’re sure she would have jumped a foot in the air at the sight of you.

How are you?

She doesn’t reply, too full of fear to speak back to you, but it’s okay. You’re just being polite.

Slowly, you walk around her until you’re standing side-by-side - thank goodness it’s quite a big mirror. You smile into the mirror, careful not to get too close in case you accidentally catch her fancy hairstyle on your horns.

Don’t worry. I’ll be quick.

You both watch in the mirror as your body begins to change, thickening in some places and narrowing in others, muscle and fat and bone morphing under the skin as you pour your form into her shape. It starts slow, but gets faster as you get more into it, tweaking the hair texture, the fingernail length, the skin tone, in order to get as close to her appearance as possible.

Your clothes, too, start to change - cotton turns to chiffon as you imitate her dress, and you pay special attention to the complicated details of the lace. It looks very intricate and pretty, and you’d hate to lose it in the transformation process.

Smile, please?

Helplessly, overflowing with fear, she smiles. You bare your fangs as well, paring them down until they’re just like her blunt human teeth, and shortening your tongue slightly until it’s a more conventionally human length.

Thank you. And could you just lift up your dress a little bit?

She’s forced to obey, one hand lifting up the hem of the dress just enough to let you see the shoes she’s wearing. They’re white too, sort of satiny, with a shiny silver embellishment on the front - you wobble a little bit on the high heels as your own shoes suddenly turn into replicas of hers, but it’s not too bad.

You probably have a bouquet, too, don’t y-

A knock at the door. Instinctively, you whip around to face it, claws lengthening and fangs sharp in your mouth as magic builds beneath your palms, until it hits you.

“Is that you in there, my love?”

Of course. Hurriedly, you pull the transformation back into place, smoothing out the creases in your dress from where you’d ruffled it.

You meet the human’s terrified eyes in the mirror, and her brain recoils at the sight of her own face glaring at her. Reply. Now.

“I’m here!”

The door opens, and a human man walks into the room. He’s a little bit taller than you are now, and he’s wearing a grey suit with a blue bow tie and a little cluster of white flowers on the left lapel. You’ve never seen him before, but you know exactly who he is.

The bride’s mind flickers with hope at the sight of her husband-to-be, like he’s come to protect her from you. That hope is short-lived, though - gleefully, you swallow the horror that grips her as the man ignores her entirely and comes to stand behind you instead. It’s so strong, and you gulp down mouthful after mouthful as her body floods with useless adrenaline and her eyes fill with petrified tears.

“Oh, darling,” the man sighs, and the lady’s heart splits in two. “You look lovely.”

Thank him.

“Thank you, I really like it. Thank you, I really like it. Thank you, I really like it.”

The woman speaks at your command, and you mouth along with her until you think you’ve copied her voice correctly. Her accent is a little tricky at first, not quite the same as your usual one, but it doesn’t take long to get a feel for it.

Stop.

She stops, and you clear your new throat with a small cough.

“Thank you. I really like it.”

Vega smiles down at you with his unfamiliar face, and you curl into the right-but-wrong cradle of his arms as easily as ever. At your back, his clothes feel much thicker and heavier than his usual preference, but you take comfort in the lack of heartbeat in his chest, and the way he doesn’t breathe unless he needs to speak. Underneath the mask, he’s still your Vega.

That being said, it is a bit weird. The proportions are all different and it’s throwing you off slightly.

You’re used to looking up a little more - these humans are more similar in height than you and Vega normally are, so it’s weird for him to be so… close? Like, his face is just closer to you, because these new human forms mean he’s not as tall as usual when compared to you.

“Did you have much trouble?” he asks, gently rocking the two of you back and forth. It feels nice.

You shrug. “It was fine. Just had to get back into the swing of it.”

“Mm.” His hands skim over the front of your dress, feeling the different textures of the lace and silk and chiffon that now adorn you. “It’s funny how quickly it comes back to you.”

It’s quite bizarre, being in this body. The weight is distributed differently, and the musculature isn’t yet familiar - you shift your weight from foot to foot, trying to get used to the balance. As you do, the long skirt of the dress follows you, swishing languidly back and forth as the long train weighs it down.

“If you want to dance, we can dance.” Vega tilts his head to look at your awkward swaying, taking your hand and lifting his arm for you to slowly twirl under. “Aren’t you elegant, hm?”

“I’m not sure you know what that word means,” you mutter, turning this way and that in front of the mirror as you try to get used to this new, strange body. “I look all… weird.”

“Nonsense. You look beautiful, darling,” he murmurs, fingers tipping your chin up to look at the two of you in the mirror. Like this, you could almost believe you were looking at a photograph, or a portrait. “My little blushing bride.”

He reaches out and floats something long and white over from the table, before repositioning you slightly further in front of him. Surprised, you watch as he fiddles with your new hair, attaching the object to the back of your head and stepping back to admire his handiwork.

“There.”

You turn, looking over your shoulder in the mirror. A long, gauzy veil floats behind you, trailing down to the floor, and you mentally correct yourself. Not so much a photograph as a storybook - the fairytale prince and princess, starting off on a happily ever after.

On the floor by your feet, a mobile phone buzzes.

Amy (wedding planner): Coming up to get you in 5! Hope you’re ready

“Showtime, I take it?”

You nod, a little disappointed. You were enjoying yourself.

Unfortunately, he takes that as his cue to leave, bending down to kiss your cheek and batting away your hands with a laugh as you try to tug him closer. “Don’t forget your bouquet, my sweet.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” you reply, watching in idle admiration as he heads towards the door. Whoever chose this suit definitely knew what they were doing.

“Then I’ll see you downstairs, my love.” He’s just got one hand on the door handle when-

“Wait!”

He pauses, turning back to you in confusion. “What?”

“You couldn’t just, um…” You gesture vaguely at the lady next to you, still frozen in front of the mirror. “For me?”

“Too messy for you?” He sighs in false disappointment, though you can feel the magic building excitedly beneath his skin already. “I thought you were all for getting your hands dirty, darling.”

You look pointedly down at your nice white dress, and then back at him. He knows he’s much cleaner at this than you are. “I am not cleaning blood off this. I just made it!”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Vega walks back over as you reach down, offering you a steadying arm as you hoist the hem of your dress up a bit with one hand, so you don’t trip over your new shoes. “Say goodbye, dear.”

You wave cheerily at the lady, tottering over to the table and picking up the bouquet. It really is stunning, all white and pink flowers with lots of pretty greenery mixed in. Curiously, you bring it up to your face to see if it smells nice, but it doesn’t really smell of anything at all.

The whole room tastes like terror. She stares at her own face, and you make it smile back.

The train of your dress slides smoothly along the floor behind you with a satisfying swishing sound, and you’re pleasantly surprised at how nice it feels to walk around in. It fits very well on your borrowed body, and it’s more comfortable than you thought it would be.

You can hear someone coming up the stairs - looks like you’d better get going. Apologetically, you give Vega a shrug, but he already knows. It would probably be bad if someone walked in on all this.

“See you in a bit.” You blow him a kiss with the hand not holding the bouquet, shy smile spreading across your face as he catches it and presses it to his lips. “I love you.”

“As I love you, darling.”

The door clicks open, then closed again. The clipboard lady, just rounding the corner, looks relieved to see you, and ushers you down the stairs.

(Behind you, a human man smiles at a human woman. His teeth are much, much sharper than she remembers them to be. Then her body constricts and crushes inwards, dark blood soaking through white silk, and she doesn’t remember anything at all.)

You have to walk quite slowly, still getting used to the shoes, so it’s lucky that you’ve got someone to hold onto. The clipboard lady chatters away as she takes you through the building, out to the sunny churchyard and up to the doors, but you’re not really listening. You’re much too busy floating in the beautiful ambience of it all - the excited nervousness of the bridesmaids, the satisfied anticipation you can feel coming from inside the church.

Everything just looks so pretty, soft pinks and primrose yellows among the sea of white. There’s glitter, and balloons, and gold writing on pastel-coloured bunting. Long swathes of cream-coloured fabric are draped all across the walls and ceiling, and you’re utterly enchanted by the delicate displays of flowers dotted around the room.

Humans have such inventive ways of making things look nice. Maybe you should get some flowers and streamers to decorate the house with.

Belatedly, you realise that you’ve been handed off to some human man, though you don’t know who he is. He looks a bit older than the lady you’re supposed to be, and he feels sort of… sad? But also happy. Nostalgic, maybe? It’s weird.

He fishes around in his pocket for a second, before holding out a little silver disc towards you. What is that? Is it a coin? You take it, and suddenly you realise what it’s meant to be.

It’s a sixpence! Oh, you’ve read about this! Yes, yes, this is a thing that humans do - eagerly, you hitch up your dress and lift your heel slightly out of your shoe, slipping the coin under your foot. The metal is a bit cold, but it quickly warms up, and the man is nice enough to hold your arm to keep you upright as you readjust yourself.

Whoever this man is, it’s very good of him to give it to you. “Thank you!” you say earnestly, giving him a big smile.

For some reason, you feel a little spark of surprise flare inside him when you say that, although he clearly tries not to show it. Do people not say ‘thank you’ when somebody gives them a present? But you’re sure they do - it’s one of the first things in that awful instructional video they make all demons watch when they come to Elegy for the first time. Perhaps he’s just having an off day today.

He opens his mouth, but before he can speak, the music coming from inside the church suddenly gets very loud. All of the bridesmaids seem to have split off into pairs with the men that were milling around here, one lady with one gentleman, and the doors open to let them walk inside.

Is this where you come in? Ooh, you’ve seen this bit on the television! The man who gave you the coin now takes your arm, and the clipboard lady fusses over your dress to make sure the train is laying flat. She also brings the shorter part of the veil over your head, adjusting it so that it falls forwards over your face and down to your waist - fortunately, it doesn’t obscure your vision too much.

(Even if it did, you could just use magic to adjust your eyes slightly so that it didn’t matter, but it’s not that bad. No point in messing around with your disguise right now.)

Magic swirls and fizzes inside you, bursting like fireworks in the dark sky that fills your form. You’re going to marry Vega. You! Marrying him! Today really is like a fairytale, and you don’t even try to hide the lovesick expression that must be all over your face right now.

Somewhere inside, they start playing a familiar song, and the man leads you slowly through the doors. Bouquet in hand, you walk with him, and try not to trip over your long dress.

Everybody in the church is standing up and facing you - suddenly, you’re very glad for the veil. It’s a bit awkward, but you focus on the nice feelings of admiration and happiness drifting through the room, and that makes it better.

Yeah, that’s better. It’s like being part of a play, and all these people are your admiring audience. Today, you get to be the star!

Bright light streaming through the stained glass, lovely music playing as the church organ sings away. At the front of the room, you finally catch sight of Vega - he’s standing next to the altar, and even though his face is different, you’d recognise the beautiful curve of his smile anywhere.

There you are, dearest.

His voice in your head is comfortingly familiar, and as you get closer you can feel the affection in his aura. You give him the tiniest wave, as best you can without making it too obvious, and you have to swallow down the swell of giddy excitement that rushes through you as he waves back.

When you get to the front, there’s some sort of fussing while everyone gets sorted. One of the bridesmaids takes your bouquet, before going to sit down on one of the chairs, and the man in the funny robes next to Vega - the priest? Is that the right one? - tells the man who walked you up here to give you away, or something like that.

It’s a weird thing to say, but the man nods and lets go of your arm, going off to sit down in the front row. One of the bridesmaids stays standing a little bit behind you, and one of the gentlemen stays behind Vega, but as far as you’re concerned, it’s just you and him.

(Most people would say that’s a bad thing. You thoroughly disagree.)

Gently, ever so gently, Vega lifts the veil from your face, letting it fall behind your head once again. As he does it, he blinks deliberately at you with a grin, eyes flicking back to their usual colour for just a second before turning back to their current borrowed blue.

You do the same, keeping a careful grip on the rest of the glamour as it slides back into place. Nobody notices, their human eyes too weak and slow, and the thrill of your shared secret makes your heart feel all warm and fizzy.

There’s a bit more talking from the priest man, during which you take the opportunity to sample a few of the emotions in the room. There are a few sour ones, but they make the nice ones that much sweeter - your mouthful of excitement tastes even better with the swirl of jealousy that runs through it.

He doesn’t say much that’s interesting, but you learn that the lady you’re impersonating is actually called ‘Karla Dillon’, and the man who Vega’s pretending to be is called ‘Justin Bryant’. They’re quite ridiculous names, if you’re honest. Much less sensible than Vega’s or yours, but that’s what you get with humans.

Eventually, the priest turns to you. It’s a little jarring when he calls you by this weird, wrong name, but you don’t let it show.

“Karla, will you have this man to be your husband; to live together with him in the covenant of marriage?” he says to you. “Will you love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto him as long as you both shall live?”

Well, those all sound like good things. You nod enthusiastically, and say “I will.”

He asks Vega the same question, who says the same thing as you. As he says it, you both make eye contact - you can tell you’re both thinking the same thing. If only this human knew just how long you two are going to live.

There’s a bit more talking - you amuse yourself by counting all the petals in the little cluster of flowers that are pinned on Vega’s jacket, and magically making all of the candles flicker in different patterns. He plays along by making them flicker back, and out of the corner of your eye you see one of the men at the back of the room switch one of the standing fans off.

You tune back in just as Vega reaches out, lightly bumping your mind with his own as he softly takes your right hand in both of his. New face, old expression. Looking up at him like this, it’s like there’s nobody else in the world.

“In the name of God, I, Justin, take you, Karla…” He takes a breath, and to anyone else it might look like he’s trying to stop himself from crying. You, however, know that he’s actually trying not to laugh. These names really are silly.

He clears his throat, and tries again. “I take you to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part.”

Before he lets go, he presses his thumb lightly over the backs of your fingers, right where he normally kisses your hand. You really have to fight the urge to just grab him and kiss him right now - how dare he be so sweet to you, in front of all these people?

It feels a little off, when you take his hand in return - the shape is all wrong, and his fingers aren’t as long as you’re used to. Even so, you don’t mind. It’s still him, no matter what form he takes.

The words are a little difficult to remember, but you do your best. “In the name of God, I, Karla, take you, Justin, to be my husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part.”

It’s disappointing when you have to let go - it feels cold, and you’d much rather keep holding his hand. He must feel your disappointment, though, nudging a pulse of encouragement into your consciousness, and it does help a bit.

Luckily, you don’t have to let go for very long. The man behind Vega comes over and offers him a little square, embroidered cushion, with two rings sitting on top. One is quite plain, just a smooth, shiny gold band, while the other has a big, teardrop-shaped diamond in the middle - Vega picks up the one with the diamond, and reaches for your hand again.

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love, with all that I am, and all that I have.”

He says it in your mind, as well as out loud, and the feeling of his real voice in your head is almost enough to have you bursting into tears right then and there. The slight disturbance in the air where his horns are hidden shudders slightly, a reassuring reminder, and you blink away the tears as you watch him slide the ring onto your finger.

The man then comes to you, offering the cushion, and you reach out to take the other ring. Your hands tremble slightly with nervous excitement as you slip it on Vega’s finger, and you’re sure you can’t quite hide the possessiveness in your voice as you speak - both in his head and with your human mouth.

You definitely remember the words for this part. “I give you this ring as a symbol of my love, with all that I am, and all that I have.”

Vega smiles. Suddenly, you’re reminded of something he said the other day.

Have you ever seen a wedding ring before?

It had been dark, late at night in bed, and you’d just been falling asleep when he’d asked you. Sleepily, you’d turned to face him, but the blackout curtains always make it too dark to really see anything.

I think so. One of your old coworkers had shown you, once - a flat little gold band around his finger. I heard it was like a kind of courting gift.

Something like that. As I understand it, the ring is less of a present, and more… more of a promise, I suppose. Or a reminder.

You remember thinking that it was an unusual thing to say. Are humans really that stupid? Why do they have to wear a special ring to remind them that they’re in love? Shouldn’t they just… know?

Humans are always making things more complicated than they need to be, little one. I thought that was obvious.

So what makes these kinds of rings special? Are they magical?

No, there’s no magic, he’d replied, shaking his head. Unempowered humans can have weddings too.

Frustrated, you’d let your head drop heavy on the pillow. Then what’s the point?

I suppose there isn’t one, he’d said, thoughtful. Humans like all sorts of odd things.

He hadn’t said anything for a long time, and you’re still not sure if the next thing he’d said had been real, or just something your tired mind had dreamt up. Maybe we’ll just have to find out for ourselves.

New weight on your finger, new light in your heart. He’s yours. Now, you think you might understand why humans like these little rings so much.

There’s a little more talking, including a slightly weird part where the two of you have to kneel down while the priest does a sort of short speech over your heads. Vaguely, you remember Vega saying it’s meant to be some sort of blessing, but you aren’t actually paying attention. Instead, you let the words just wash over you, the joyful tide rushing over the sand, and you don’t let go of his hand this time.

When the speech is over, Vega helps you stand - you respond with a grateful pulse of affection in his mind. These blasted shoes are really starting to hurt now, and there’s so much material with all this dress and veil stuff that you have to steady yourself with some subtle psychokinesis to stop you tripping and falling flat on your face. Thank goodness you’ve got him here to keep you upright!

Thankfully, the priest waits until you’re both steady on your feet to speak, and you’re very glad he does. This is the bit you've been looking forward to most of all.

“Karla and Justin,” he says with a smile, “having witnessed your vows of love to one another, it is my joy to present you to all gathered here as husband and wife.”

The candles flicker. In the corner of your eye, a lady in the front row dabs at her eye with a tissue.

“You may kiss.”

A human hand cradles the back of your head, slips around your waist, leans you backwards into a picture-perfect dip. A human face smiles down at you, eyes bright with the thrill of new love. A human man leans down to kiss his bride, sweetly and softly, on the happiest day of his life.

“Shall we, darling?”

You smile, and it’s all teeth. “Of course.”

The glamour splitting, splintering, crumbling to dust. It's no human who holds you now. A woman screams in the second row as the facade falls away, and Vega's horns click gently against yours as he finally kisses you.

Vaguely, you're aware of the thick layer of paralysis magic that condenses in the room, locking the humans in place before they can do anything, but you don’t really pay it any mind. You’re far too focused on the warmth of Vega’s tail tangling with yours under your dress, the sting of sharp fangs dragging over your lip as his tongue dips down into your mouth.

I love you.

The air tastes like frantic, screeching terror. And I love you.

Sliding your fingers into his hair, you press yourself as close to him as you can. The relief of reverting to your demonic form is wonderful, the illusion sliding off your skin like thick oil, and you couldn’t beat back your smile if you wanted to.

My darling, he whispers into your mind, just where he ought to be. A match made in heaven, wouldn’t you say?

As he says it, he gently brings you back upright, though he doesn’t let you go. Gleefully, you relax into his arms, looking around at the room full of horrified faces. A few of them have fainted, falling limp against the paralysis that keeps them in their seats - others try to struggle out of it, but to no avail.

Oh, definitely. You look down at the ring on your finger, watching the diamond sparkle in the light - now that you look more closely, you can see that the big one in the middle is surrounded with lots of little diamonds that sparkle in the light. It’s so, so beautiful.

He holds his hand out next to yours, and you can see him magically adjusting the size of his ring so that it fits him properly. It’s a good idea. You do the same with yours - while you’re at it, you also replace those awful shoes with something a bit more comfortable. There’s a notable jolt as they disappear and you suddenly get several inches shorter, but your feet definitely thank you for it.

Once your clothes fit you again, it feels much better. Indulgently, you rest your head on Vega’s shoulder and look around. Most of the humans seem to be in some stage of panic, but some are remarkably calm. Maybe it’s just that it hasn’t quite hit them yet.

Did you want that back, dear?

Vega points towards the bridesmaid who was standing behind you - oh, your bouquet! Gratefully, you tug it free of her frozen hands with a tendril of magic, and float it over to you.

It’s very pretty, but now that you think about it, perhaps this could be a little more to your taste. With a wave of your hand, all of the candles in the room flare, and Vega watches curiously as white roses turn to deep pink peonies.

That’s better, you declare happily. Now it’s special to us, instead of them.

He doesn’t say anything, just kisses your temple, but you know what he means. You can feel it.

A quiet sniffling sound catches your attention, and you glance over to see where it’s coming from. It’s the lady in the front row from earlier, the one who had the tissue. She must have dropped it when the magic reached her - her face streams with fearful tears, but she can’t bend down to reach the packet lying on the floor by her feet.

It makes you feel a bit bad for her, so you untangle yourself from Vega’s arms and walk over to her. Slowly, as not to startle her, you bend down and pick the little packet up.

Don’t worry, miss. I’ll be quick.

You take a tissue out of the plastic, and dab the tears from her face as gently you can. Her makeup is running a bit, but you try to salvage what little is left, and wipe away the streaks of mascara that run down her cheeks. Did you enjoy the ceremony?

For some reason, your efforts only seem to make her cry harder, chest stuttering and spasming as her body sobs as much as the magic will let it. Soon, your tissue is absolutely soaked through, and you have to dissolve it between your fingers.

Oh, miss. Please don’t cry - it’s okay…

You look back over at Vega, who’s currently inspecting the decorations on the altar, but he just shrugs. He doesn’t seem to know what to do either.

Here, I can make it - I’ll make it stop.

Carefully, you reach into her mind and pull. With a jolt, the crying suddenly stops, and her eyes glaze over as her memory fades - you fill the empty space of the last few hours with peaceful mist, and slowly guide her down into her chair.

Sleep well, miss.

She couldn’t reply, even if she wanted to. She’s already asleep.

Vega, should we…? You wave your hand at the sleeping lady, and then gesture to the rest of the room. It would be weird if she was the only one.

If that’s what you’d like, he says. Faintly, you feel a little flicker of disappointment that you haven’t gone with the other plan, but he hides it well. Come on, we’ll do it together.

(Look, it’s not that the other plan didn’t sound fun. It’s just that you’ve already done a murder today, and killing all these people seems a bit greedy. Plus, it would mean cleaning all the blood out of the chairs, and that’s really not a headache you need today.)

The haze of paralytic magic suddenly gets thicker, swirling through the room like heavy fog, and you pour as much magic as you can into it to get it to stick. Slowly, it dilutes into sleeping magic, and the humans all begin to slump back down into their chairs or onto the floor.

Do you want a specific memory? Vega takes your hand and leads you back up to the altar, so you can see the whole room. Or just a gap?

You deliberate for a second. Just a gap, I think. They should be able to come up with an explanation.

He nods. Then they’re all yours, dear.

There’s quite a lot of humans here, so you have to concentrate quite hard. Gradually, you help the fog to ease the memories of today out of their heads, replacing them with the same swirling mist that you gave the crying lady, and making sure none of them remember you or Vega were ever here.

Human minds are very resilient, and they love making up explanations for things they can’t explain. Once they realise the humans you replaced are gone, you’re sure they’ll come up with an acceptable story sooner or later. They’ll be fine.

Finished. With a sigh of relief, you step back and let the magic dissipate. Should we get going, then?

Your hand moves to start opening a rift, but Vega’s faster, catching your wrist before you can get there.

Mm… Not quite finished.

Somewhere else in the room, there’s a burst of magic - you watch in bewilderment as the organist wakes from her sleep, and dazedly pulls herself up onto her seat. What?

You’re forgetting something, love.

All around you, music starts to play - oh, it’s that song! The famous one! From the one you saw on the television, the one that he watched with you! Vega offers you his arm, and you have to wipe away the happy tears that seem to have appeared in your eyes all of a sudden.

Oh, Vega… The tears don’t go away, and you sob into his shirt as he holds you, long peony stems dangling loose between your fingers. You didn’t have to!

Of course I did, my darling, he laughs quietly, kissing the top of your head between your horns as his hand smooths comforting circles over your back. Of course I did.

He offers you his arm, and you take it with a teary smile. The lovely music echoes from the high ceiling as the organ sings, and you hum along in your head as you walk back down the aisle.

None of the humans are awake to see it, but it doesn’t matter - you materialise a playful burst of shiny confetti just over Vega’s head, giggling as it rains down over him and sticks in his hair.

You-!

He gives you a mock glare, and replies with a retaliatory burst of flower petals over your own head. Then another, then another, until you’re both laughing too hard to concentrate - behind you, the aisle is buried under a trail of confetti and flowers as you practically chase each other towards the doors.

Oh, I don’t think so - there!

You’re too slow to dodge his hand around your waist - he scoops up your squirming form like it’s nothing, dress and veil so long that they still brush along the floor as he carries you in his arms. Got you, little troublemaker.

You try to wriggle free, but he’s too strong - resigned to your fate, you just settle for throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a deep, happy kiss. Is that a promise, husband?

With all that I am, and all that I have, he dutifully recites, tail slipping beneath your dress and coiling possessively around your ankle. I won’t ever let you go.

It’s all you could ever want. Behind you, a room full of humans sleeps unaware, and the organist plays you out as Vega carries you carefully out into the churchyard. The sun is shining high in the sky, and your veil flutters behind you in the summer breeze.

So, darling, he asks over the music. Do you like it, then?

The happiest day of your life. Looking up at Vega, covered in confetti and laughing in the sunlight, you think you finally understand.

Yes, you say. I do.

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this is an original work by @gingerbreadmonsters - please do not repost or misattribute.