#was fine. it felt good. like the design was part of the shirt. I want that again.

[kittlyns]

My best friend's birthday is in 5 days and I just got her present in the mail and it sucks. So I'm killing myself.

[bananayuyu]

Cleaning Up

Pairing: Mingi x f reader

Genre: angst, eventual fluff and smut

Word count: 7.7k

Summary: Months after being convinced to join Mingi on tour, you can't help but ruminate on the events of the last year of your life. Despondent, you start making choices and saying things that just aren't like you. In the heat of the moment everything comes out, not in the way you wanted; but maybe, it was just the way things were meant to unfold all along.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, reader is depressed, Mingi and reader argue, unprotected sex

A/n: I don't usually write things this angsty but the idea came to me after finishing Making a Mess and I just couldn't stop writing it. I hope you enjoy! <3

This is a part 2/expansion of Making a Mess, which is linked here so you can read it for some context if you'd like. This can also be read as a stand alone fic just fine! (I think, lmk if this isn't true)

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You walk down the hallway of the hotel, the florescent lights making you squint to the ground. Another night of tour, another pounding headache. And here you were trudging to your room, sure to find a mountain of texts and emails in need of responses, another random hotel room bed waiting to embrace you. You're sure this one has pillows that will leave your neck a knotted mess in the morning, just like all the others. You're tired of this, tired of your body feeling like it has one use and one use only, tired of feeling like it's falling apart on you. This was supposed to be a break from monotony, an exciting new change. A chance to both rest and do exciting things.

Pulling out your key card you slot it through the lock, the light on the handle lighting up green. You push it open, almost dropping your bag as it slides off your shoulder and catches painfully on your upper arm.

"Ow," you mutter, crumpling to the floor in lieu of setting it down. The room is mostly dark, illuminated only by the city lights outside. You see through the window that next door is another hotel. Another hotel. You'd truly had enough. It was time to switch up the routine, at least a little. You couldn't bare to spend another night struggling to fall asleep in a hotel you didn't deserve to be in.

Leaving your bag behind you make your way back to the elevator, back to the lobby. The front door swings open and a chilly breeze hits you, making you shiver instantly. Your shorts and t-shirt might not be the most comfortably at this hour, but in your mentally exhausted state the shiver feels good. Any sort of feeling, really, was good. Anything new, anything different.

You bust through the doors, greeted by the cool night air, gripping your phone and key card tightly as you snake past a group of obviously tipsy businessmen. One says something to you but you don't even make out the words, trembling as you stalk by them without looking up. Harsh, fierce anxiety lances through you and suddenly you feel scared, like something terrible is about to happen. You know you're in the nicest part of the city, the streets well lit and a team of security always present outside the hotel. It isn't a rational feeling, the impending doom that's hitting you. But it's there and it's crushing, making your breath shaky as you walk down the street towards nothing in particular.

It was nearly five months ago that the two of you met, at a party thrown after the biggest fashion show you'd ever worked. It was supposed to be the highlight of your career as a makeup artist and up-and-coming designer, but truthfully you were so burnt out by the time it happened, so completely exhausted by your boss, that the whole event had passed you in a blur. You couldn't remember a single thing about that day but the dread you felt at the sound of your alarm, the panic staying with you all day even as you sipped a sweet cocktail, mingling in a way you really didn't want to but knew you should. For the betterment of your career, which you thought you so cared about.

And in the middle of the terrible day turned terrible night, there Mingi was. The group of designers he had come with were fretting around him, making their way to the bar to order their drinks. You hadn't moved far from the bar after grabbing yours, unable to actually make yourself go and introduce yourself to people like you said you would. Like you'd promised your boss you would. Your mind was so blank you weren't sure you'd even be able to form a sentence. But then he spoke to you, this striking stranger with the deepest eyes you'd ever seen, eyes that made you want to dive in and explore the entirety of his head.

Sure, the sex that night was amazing. It truly was, you shouldn't undersell it; but really the thing that stuck with you was what he said afterwards, while you both were tangled up in the sheets of your bed. Why are you doing it if you hate it? he'd asked you. And you'd explained that really you didn't hate it, you just hated your boss, your fashion company. You loved fashion and makeup and everything about that world, but you couldn't take another day of watching every one of your coworkers go home crying, your cruel boss tearing everyone down in front of you constantly. Except you, for some reason. I don't deserve her kindness, I don't know why she likes me, you'd said. No, she doesn't deserve your talent, he'd replied.

And then when he was leaving, his final parting words; You deserve so much more than that woman. Oh, it was simple platitudes. An easy thing for him to say to a girl he'd just been fucking, a girl he might want to still be able to fuck in the future. You knew that was probably the case, that he just wanted to play nice. It's no fun when your hookup starts telling you how fucking depressed she is, how beaten down by her job she is. Immediately upon him leaving you spent the night bashing yourself, screaming into the void that you never should have brought it up. Why am I always such a blabbermouth after sex? you thought. You spent days feeling regret, which finally turned to just embarrassment. But then he texted you, and you'd gone and had a late dinner, you both completely exhausted from your inhumanely long work days. In your delirious state you laughed together, grabbing desert on the way to your place, where again he fucked you senseless, his eyes boring into yours afterwards in the complete silence. You'd never had someone look at you so much during sex, or after, and it was exposing. He saw you. He saw in. And finally you had the courage to say fuck it, fuck her, and emailed your boss that you weren't coming back. He celebrated with you that day. Such an intensely intimate moment for two strangers; but really, he didn't feel like a stranger at all.

So the friendship grew. You picked up some freelance makeup work to keep yourself afloat, finally working with a friend on a project he'd begged you to join for months. That was fun until it wasn't, just like every little job was, and you were thankful that you didn't have to stay at any of them for long. You made it work for a little while, your rendezvous with Mingi the true highlight of most of your weeks. Your mind was still elsewhere, still swimming in the clouds as your body went about your life, as you felt like a shell, like someone pretending to be you. Only maybe when you were with him, when he was deep inside you, did you feel present. You could feel like yourself again, if only for a few moments. And god did you need that.

Come with me on tour, he'd said one night, his impending months of travel hanging in the air between you. You laughed, you laughed hard. What a ridiculous notion. But he didn't let it go, not for a second. It was late at night, your post coitus talk drifting off into the darkness as you repeatedly made each other yawn. I'm serious, I need you, he'd said. Again you laughed, how could you not? You weren't dating; this thing between you was very casual, and though you knew you might be dipping into dangerous waters by not defining anything you really couldn't be bothered to care in that moment. It's not possible, though, you'd replied. And then he'd vehemently explained to you how it absolutely, definitely was. It'd taken another week of thinking it over, but then you'd said okay. The opportunity called to you, the chance to get out of the place you'd been grinding in for the last few years and travel the world a bit, with this new friend, or whatever he was. In the end it wasn't that hard of a choice, as the life you were leaving behind wasn't really holding you anymore, wasn't really much of anything. And that did make you sad when you thought about it for too long, so you pushed the feeling down and surrendered instead to the excitement of the new opportunity. You'd lied to your mom, saying you were employed as a makeup artist for the tour; it made you a little sick to lie to her, but you didn't know what else to say. The guy I've been fucking wants me to come? I hate my life so I agreed to? You didn't want to break her heart or make her worry. Even with some of your friends you skirted around the truth, not wanting them to worry either.

And now as you walk down the street, as your legs shake in the night, you really wish someone knew just how awful it all felt. Just what a dumb situation you'd gotten yourself into. Day in and day out he'd fuck you, often in the completely exposed hallways of the arenas, making you come repeatedly while looking into your eyes deeply, making your stomach clench with feelings you really, really didn't want to admit you were having. Though you got along well and could talk for hours, it was clear to you that it really was just sex to him. Since tour started you'd barely spend a day together that didn't involve him inside of you, and you'd begun to resent the time you spent with the actual makeup team for the tour. You'd been grateful for their company at first, especially one woman you'd clicked with immediately, but slowly you couldn't avoid feeling jealous at how well they were all treated by their boss, jealous that they could pursue their dreams and it wasn't crushing them. And then there were the members of staff that had stumbled upon you and Mingi in the act, who looked at you completely differently now, like you were sick or disturbed. It all began to eat at you, especially that you found the humiliation and the intensity of it desirable, that even though it pained you, you couldn't stop craving the public sex, already horny for him before his break in the show was even close. You felt so fucking shameful for doing what you had done. Touring with a band, just so that one of the members could fuck you when he pleased? How had you ended up here? A quick thought of childhood you, of her hopes and her dreams of success in the industry, made tears instantly form in your eyes and begin falling. Stop it, stop crying, you begged yourself. The lights from the corner store blurred between your tears, and suddenly you realized you'd walked further than intended, and you didn't know where you were.

Opening your phone to pull up a map, you saw the text.

Mingi: I'm coming over, be there in like 10

Sent almost ten minutes ago. You held your breath for a moment, waiting for another text. But it didn't come. And then the anger came, boiling up inside you. How fucking presumptuous, you thought. Sure, it wasn't that strange. He'd sent almost identical texts about a dozen times throughout tour. But now it smacked you so plainly, that he just expected you to always be there. Just waiting for him, whenever he wanted you. Like it couldn't be possible you maybe didn't want to see him.

y/n: Don't bother, I'm not even there

It only took a few seconds for his text to appear.

Mingi: Are you okay?

I'm fucking great, actually, you wanted to say. You rolled your eyes, feet stuck to the sidewalk, the line of trees you were under feeling like good protection.

y/n: yes

That was all you had, even though you knew it was betraying everything you felt. It was way too weird of a response, too short. Somehing was obvious wrong. You groaned as you saw his call coming through, your phone lighting up like a beacon in the dark night.

"Hi," you say, not even trying to make your voice sound bright or normal.

"Y/n, where are you?" Mingi asks.

"Why do you care?" you respond, already feeling embarrassed by your behavior.

"You don't need to be nasty with me, I'm just checking on you," he replies, keeping his voice steady.

"I told you I'm okay," you respond, sighing heavily.

"You obviously aren't, you're not acting like yourself," he says, his tone hard to read. All you can think is that he's disappointed, mad that you're not where he expected you to be.

"You say that like you know me well," you respond, huffing.

"I do..." he trails off, voice low. Like he's contemplating how to respond to you, how to continue this conversation.

"Fucking me doesn't really equate to getting to know me," you say, your tone laced with anger. "I just felt like going for a walk tonight, I've spent so many evenings in hotel rooms recently and a midnight walk just sounded nice. Like I said, I'm fine."

"You're walking outside?" he asks.

"Mm-hmm," you respond, your tone unkind.

"By yourself?"

"Mm-hmm."

"You shouldn't be out there, you promised me," he says, sighing deeply.

"Mingi, I really don't get why it matters. I'm a fucking adult, I can go for a walk when I fucking feel like it," you retort, even angrier. How dare he tell you what you should or shouldn't be doing.

"I'm coming with Yubin to get you," he says, and you hear the elevator opening for him through the phone.

"Can you just let me do what I want, for once?" you groan, crouching down to put your head in your hands, unsure what to do with all of the frustration you're feeling.

"You're being a real asshole right now, and I don't know why, but I'm not letting you get lost in a fucking foreign country. Tell me where you are," he spits, finally losing control of the even tone he'd kept so far.

"I. Don't. Know. Mingi," you say slowly, like he's stupid. God it's embarrassing, the way you're being so uncharacteristically nasty, but you just can't help it. You feel so genuinely out of control, your entire body shaking with anger and dread. He had been there with you to help you finally quit your horrible job, been there during the tumultuous time afterwards while you jumped from job to job, trying every day to assure yourself and everyone else that you were doing fine. The money might be less, but you were actually eating and sleeping enough most days, and that had to count for something. You'd been connected to him then, had those little moments of support. And that was why you'd come on tour, or at least part of the reason. Now he'd been much more distant, not a conversation between you that remotely resembled your old talks. After sex he'd be running back to stage, or passing out in your hotel bed instantly, the exhaustion from tour clearly affecting him. You could understand it from an intellectual point of view, but it didn't mean your feelings weren't hurt.

"I could fucking kill you right now," he sighs through the phone, the sound of the elevator arriving on the eighth floor coming through too. "Look for some street signs, find the cross streets," he demands, softly. "Y/n please," he begs, your quiet resolve breaking, the tears threatening to come again.

"Fine," you say, squinting out towards the intersection ahead of you, the street names hard to read from so far. "Um, one is Rolling.. Heels? Or no, Hills, I think. And the other must be, fuck, whatever street our hotel is on. I can't remember."

"Thank you," he says, the words clearly painful coming out of his mouth. "Promise me you won't move," he sighs, his hand knocking on the door of his manager's room.

"I promise," you sigh, your tone sounding sarcastic.

"Y/n, I swear to god..." Mingi groans.

"I promise, I mean it," you respond, your tone more solid. You really do mean it, you really will be here waiting. Because even if you're pissed at him you're thankful someone is coming to your rescue as you shiver, your body feeling so weak you're not even sure you could make it back to the hotel. As you trudged down the street you hadn't noticed how exhausted you were, your head full of every memory of the last year. It wasn't until you were on the phone with him that it hit you.

"Okay, we'll be there in a few minutes, don't move an inch. And call me if anything weird happens," he says before saying goodbye, hanging up as you hear him start to tell his manager Yubin what's happening.

It takes mere minutes for them to reach you, and you climb into the back seat behind Mingi, behind the passenger side. Neither of you say a word as you climb in, the click of your buckle loud in the tense silence of the car. Slowly Yubin presses on the gas again, gliding back down the road towards the hotel. Mingi reaches his left hand back around his seat to grab your angle gently, sighing at the contact proving that you're fine, that you're here with him. Even if you're not saying a word and clearly pissed at him, the dominating emotion he's feeling still is fear, worry that something's terribly wrong. And at least now he knows you're physically okay, that no one's taken you. When you exit the car, having finally parked in the underground garage, Mingi unzips his hoodie and wraps it around you, hating the way your body subtly fights his every movement even though you're clearly so cold.

In the elevator you still didn't speak a word to either of them, your eyes glued to the floor. When the doors open to your floor you step out quickly, relieved that you'd finally be able to be by yourself again, to bury yourself in one of your books or just bury your face in the pillows, to just be. For a few steps the relief washes over you, until you realize that Mingi is following close behind, his whole being looking ragged with exhaustion and anger.

"Why are you following me?" you spit, not bothering to even look back at him. You unlock your door and he slips inside behind you, closing it gently. With a long sigh he turns to you, your arms crossed as you stare at him, petulant.

"I'm staying here with you tonight so you don't run off again," he states, like it's plain as day.

"But I don't want that," you snap, the anger boiling over now. "Do you ever consider what I fucking want?! Does the thought ever cross your mind that maybe I have feelings?!"

"I get that you don't want me here right now, I'm getting that loud and clear, but you just went walking off in a foreign country in the middle of the night without telling me. And I'm the reason you're fucking here, so I kind of feel responsible for your wellbeing. We can book you a flight home tomorrow, or I can give you space for the rest of tour, or whatever it is that you want, but I will not let you go walking off like that again. You don't know this city, you don't know anyone who lives in this city. That was fucking stupid, what you just did," he says, his own arms coming to cross over his chest. Now yours fall, in defeat. It pains you because he's right, but the idea of admitting that makes you feel edgy, like you'll fall to pieces in an instant.

You groan into your hands, sitting down at the breakfast table in the corner of your room, on one of the grossly fancy chairs. The wood armrests feel cold against the side of your thighs, your elbows resting against the table as you run your hands through your hair in frustration, your head coming to rest on the table too. Already your anger is morphing into just exhaustion, just upset. Tears are coming again, and you try to sob silently, try not to make a big scene in front of him. But your sniffles give you away, the way you're wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie, burying your head in your arms.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" he asks, standing against the wall as far from you as he can be in this room. His arms are still crossed over his chest but you're not even looking; from the sound of his voice, though, you can tell he's far away. Suddenly you feel like a bomb about to go off, like he's avoiding you for fear of triggering the explosion. It makes you even more ashamed, that you're acting out, that you aren't holding yourself together like you usually do. That you're so obviously falling apart in front of him.

"I'm exhausted," you manage, between sobs.

"Then why don't you lay down and get some sleep?" he asks gently.

"I can't fucking sleep!" you snap, finally looking up at him with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "I can't sleep, that's the fucking problem, I'm so fucking anxious every night," you spit, your breaths shaky as you let the tears keep falling.

"Y/n..." Mingi replies, sighing hard as he stares into your eyes, your head clearly full of worry and pain and every other bad feeling. He doesn't know what to do or say to make it better, but he feels his body pulled towards yours, like coming closer must be the correct thing to do. You stare him down as he walks closer, as he sits down to the side of the chair you're in, grabbing one of your hands and putting it between his own. He stares at it for a moment, seeing how rough and battered your nail beds look, and the healing cut on your pointer finger that you got two weeks ago when one of his rings slid past it in just the wrong way. When he looks up at you to meet your gaze you see the glint of possible tears forming, his head swimming with worry too. It makes you feel things too deep in your chest, too painful for you to bear it.

"Stop," you say, but it's so soft and lacking in strength that you clearly don't mean it, at least not entirely. You bury your head in your hands again, as Mingi keeps staring up at you, his chest pained at how you just reeled away from him.

"Do you want to go home tomorrow?" he asks, to no response. You're silently dealing with your rapid heart beat, dealing with the way that his look made you teeter on the edge of emotional collapse. Not even a grunt escapes your lips, as you mull over what he had just asked you. Why the hell could he read your mind so easily?

"Y/n, please talk to me. Please tell me what's going on," he pleads, a hand on your ankle like it was in the car, anchoring him again with the knowledge that at least you're here in front of him.

"You don't want to hear it, I promise you," you respond, sharply inhaling and slowly letting it out.

"Why is that?" he asks.

"Cause it's gonna piss you off, probably," you say, a few tears running down your cheeks again.

"I figured this was about me," he says, still looking up. Your head snaps to him again, your face stony.

"Um, yeah," you say, proud of yourself for not also adding a duh.

"So tell me what I did," he says, his grip on your ankle tightening slightly.

"No, stop," you squeak out, the tears turning to sobs in a moment as you crumple in on yourself again. Your shoulders heave and you breathe deeply as you try to not start full-on wailing. You're in no state to talk, no state to answer him, and with your head spinning the way it is you have no idea what nasty, vitriolic language might spill out of you if you do. As embarrassing as it feels you hope your tears will make him at least stop pressing you, maybe even totally step away and leave you be, finally.

"No," he replies sternly, much to your surprise. "I need to know what's going on. I- I told y- you promised me, that we would talk if you weren't feeling well on tour or if you were mad at me. I told you that would have to happen, cause it always does on tour, everyone is so exhausted and the highs are high so the lows are low, and people always fight. It happens every fucking tour, I told you it would. But you promised me you'd talk to me, and, I don't know if you remember, but you also literally promised not to do exactly what you did tonight. You promised not to go out by yourself anywhere at night." Your sobs haven't ceased, but you feel momentarily some clarity about everything, thinking back to the very conversation Mingi just brought up, and how happy you felt when you finally agreed to come with him. How thoughtful he'd seemed then, how mature your conversation was. And now everything felt stilted and passive aggressive, you totally unable to be honest with him in the way you thought you could be.

"I- I didn't realize it would be like this," you sob, pulling your knees into your chest.

"Like what?" he asks.

"I didn't realize I'd start to feel so used," you manage through shaky breaths.

"Why do you feel used?" Mingi asks you, a look of what seems to be genuine confusion on his face. It makes you so angry.

"Mingi, oh my god," you mutter, your sobs giving way now to angry breaths.

"What?" he asks again.

"Oh my god, is it not fucking obvious?! You fuck me night after night in the middle of fucking arenas! And then I have to hobble down to the closest bathroom and clean myself up with shitty one-ply toilet paper, cover up the smell of your fucking cum with perfume that I fucking hate, and walk back to the greenroom like everyone doesn't know what just happened. And then after the concert just, wait around in another fucking hotel room so you can come and have me again before passing out, your five alarms waking me up so that I can't even get a full night of sleep, and then I have to get myself up, get ready for a plane ride, arrive in a new city and do it all fucking over again. How the fuck do you think that makes me feel??" you scream, completely unaware of just how loud you're being. Now that it's finally coming out it's surging, the anger that had been building for weeks (and honestly your whole damn life) finally breaking free.

"I-" Mingi stops himself, feeling like he was just smacked in the face with the force of your words. "I thought you liked doing semi-public stuff," he says, speaking slowly and clearly trying to choose his words carefully.

"Yeah, well, the novelty of that has worn off now," you sob, staring down at him. "It doesn't exactly feel good having everyone look at me like I'm fucking crazy," you continue, wiping the snot and tears form your face with your bare hand.

"I knew it was- god- I knew it was a lot for you. I could tell, the look in your eye..." Mingi trails off, himself curling into a ball. "I- you know I'd never make you do something you didn't want to, right? I thought, I really thought you liked it like that..." he trails off again, failing at trying to find the perfect words for the situation. "I don't know what to say, I'm just so sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry- god, I- never should have asked you to come with me, I should have known it would be hard on you. I- I should have known that I'm not fun to be around while I'm touring. I'm fucking exhausted myself. I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry." His apologies make your chest ache, that feeling deep within you beating on the walls of your heart to finally be let free. But you still suppress it, still you push it down. Just because he's apologizing doesn't mean he feels the same, and you spiral with the knowledge that in your burnt out state you got yourself into a situation that's almost surely about to blow up in your face.

He looks up to meet your eyes, your entire face flush with red and your eyes and nose puffy. Some snot is falling out of one of your nostrils, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth as you try to control your breaths, your body still shaking and your tears still falling fast. Your mind is obviously running a mile a minute still, and behind your eyes he can see just how truly exhausted you are.

"Listen, I'm gonna talk to whoever is giving you weird looks and making you feel crazy, cause that's not fucking cool. I-" A yawn hits him, his whole body shaking momentarily with fatigue. It makes you yawn too, your head feeling so heavy that you might pass out right there in the chair. "We need to talk more about this, but right now you need to get some rest," he says, slowly standing and putting out his hands in an offering of help. "Come on, what would help you sleep?" he asks, leaning down to just pick you up out of the chair when you don't move to grab his hands. Slowly he places you down on the bed, untying your shoes and gently removing them, then removing your socks and placing them on the small pile of dirty clothes already gathered to the side of your suitcase.

"Do you want different shorts to sleep in?" he asks, knowing your activities earlier already ruined this pair. You just whine and take them off yourself, flinging them to the side, your center on full display to him, an obvious line of dried cum snaking down your leg from the small nest of hair. It's so fucking hot, he can't lie, but knowing now how you felt earlier he feels sick inside for liking it. He takes off his own shoes too, removing his shirt and pants before climbing into the bed beside you, turning off the light and lying on his side a good two feet away, gazing intently at your face.

"Hey, get under the covers," he says, tugging on the duvet and forcing you to lift your hips so he can pull it down and then over you.

"Can I hold you, would that help?" he asks, pulling it up over himself as well. You just roll to face him, snuggling your face into his bare chest instead of answering him. He comes to wrap his arms around you, his embrace tight and full of care, and it makes the tears start flowing softly again. He feels them on the skin of his chest, holding you even closer as he kisses the top of your head, wrapping his legs up around yours.

"Have I told you lately how much I appreciate that you came with me?" he asks in to the darkness of the room. You shake your head, sniffling as more tears fall. "I'm- I'm sorry, I should have said it more. I think it every day," he says, his voice shaky. "I think about you every day. I- don't know what my life would look like right now if I hadn't met you. I care about you, so much, seriously. The last thing I want is for you to feel like I'm just using you for your body, or for a release. I just want to- I want you to have fun, with me, to forget about the serious things. You think too much, you exhaust yourself, and I want to distract you from that. So that you can just live. That's why I asked you to come on tour with me, that's why I've been fucking you backstage, not just because I need it but because I thought you did too. But now I see I wasn't thinking about everything else. I didn't think about just how busy I'd be and how distracted I'd get and how you might feel like I'm not even thinking of you..."

He lets the silence envelop you both, as he holds onto you tight, feeling you still shake.

"You being here has made things so much better, I could never thank you enough for it. I-" he pauses, and you feel his body tense up. "I really care about you, I care so much. I want you to feel that, to know that," he says, sighing softly when he's finished.

You can't help but wonder if he really meant to say another four letter word, that it was there on his tongue but he chickened out, and the thought makes your insides melt. Because that's the four letter word that you've continually buried deep within yourself, the word you've associated with him for several months now, if you were honest. You really didn't think it was likely that he felt the same, even if he did seem to care about you as a person. You just couldn't be sure; maybe it was the mental state you were in, the way everything was filtered through your foggy thoughts, the way nothing felt concrete or knowable. You'd been swimming in confusing feelings ever since you quit your old job, the feelings about him feeling unimportant compared to everything else that was so serious. But now, curled up in his arms and finally letting out all the pent up anger and sadness, your feelings towards him felt like maybe the most important. The way you could just break down, the way you had yelled earlier and he hadn't panicked with you, that he'd stayed grounded and helped you come back down to earth, that seemed like the thing you should be paying attention to. The way you were so comfortable with him, that you'd let him have you in public. Because even today in that all too familiar hallway, as you entered the bathroom to finally clean up, he'd made you feel better in an instant, just by simply kissing your nose. And maybe it was brief, the relief you felt in that moment, but it was there. It was real. That, you could be sure of, despite the fogginess of almost everything else.

Finally your tears had ceased, your body no longer shaking. You felt like a total rag doll, your energy so completely spent. You pulled back your face from Mingi's chest, wiping away the tears and snot from your cheeks, looking up at his barely visible face. He leans forward and places a gentle kiss on your lips, tasting the saltiness of your tears that had been falling for the last little while.

"Do you feel any better?" he asks you, stroking a hand across your cheek, wiping the remaining tears away.

"Mm-hmm," you murmur, but the look in your eye is still not completely void of pain.

"You still mad at me?" he asks, smiling.

"Mm-hmm," you pout, staring up at him with your big beautiful eyes, his body reacting involuntarily to just how adorable you look. And you know exactly the affect it has on him, when you look at him that way. You just didn't know that it's elevated now with your nose red from crying, the way you look like you so desperately need his care.

"Y/n..." he murmurs, fixing you with a soft gaze. "Don't look at me like that..."

You giggle, your head swimming with complicated feelings. Because even now, even after all of that, you can't deny how good his strong thigh feels between your legs, or how much you like it when you feel his eyes on you so attentively.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" he asks, and you giggle again, turning your face into the pillow. "Aren't you, um, exhausted?" he asks, chuckling himself. He knows exactly what that giggle means, he's known you long enough to pick up on that.

"Well..." you respond, looking at him again with that expectant look. Even in your haze of exhaustion you want him, especially after all of those sweet things he'd just said.

"Y/n..." he trails off. The room is dark, so he can't make out everything about you, only the way you giggled and the look in your eye. "You really want that right now?"

He could take you at any time, at the drop of a hat, honestly. But if you felt used earlier, how would it feel now? He'd come to your room tonight to fuck you again, you both knew that. He would be getting what he'd wanted all again, and this time he felt unsure if you really wanted it too, or even if it was a good idea.

"Mingi, please," you whispered, his resolve crumbling in an instant. Those two words were all you had to say and he'd do anything for you, anything at all. He kissed you deeply, your bodies still entangled in a tight embrace, the kiss feeling more full of emotion than any previous one you'd shared. You felt his heart beating against you, like it was the first time all over again, like he was nervous and unsure of what he'd do next.

Suddenly he pulled back with a deep sigh. "Before we do that, just, I need to say one more thing. I chickened out earlier, I wanted to say it, and I didn't, I don't know why. I fucking love you, if that wasn't already clear. You need to know that."

Oh how good it felt to be right. Your heart clenched in your chest, your heart rate picking up the moment he began talking. You could feel it coming, but you weren't prepared for how good it would feel to hear those words from him. It was like flowers were blossoming in your body, like the whole world was made of rainbows and butterflies. You felt something release deep inside you, like a kink in your neck had finally relaxed, and the relief was all-consuming.

"I love you too," you say, tears brimming in your eyes again, this time from the pure unadulterated joy you were feeling. Mingi's lips were back on yours, his kiss firm and possessive, slow and deliberate. It took your breath away, the way he was holding you close to him so tightly, the way his mouth roamed over yours like he owned you. You could feel his hips pressing into yours, his obviously hard length putting pressure on your core, and it added to the feeling of possession, like his was the only cock meant for you.

"I want you to be mine," he murmurs, pulling away momentarily to climb on top of you, his lips crashing down on your neck in mere moments. You sigh at the feeling, a quiet moan coming from deep within you.

"I am," you whisper, your hot breath fanning past his ear and making him shiver. His hand comes down to push down his boxers, pulling his cock free desperately, rubbing the tip along your slit and circling your clit gently, loving the breathy noises coming from your lips.

"You're so wet, god, you're always so fucking wet for me," he groans in your ear, making your whole body jitter with pleasure. This time it feels so different, like you're truly about to make love, even if it's in your own freaky way. Sex could never be just sweet and calm between you, you knew that. And you liked that, cause sweet wasn't exactly what you needed when it came to sexual pleasure. The things he whispered in your ear always had you coming so fast, and it had never been like that with any previous partners. As he slowly rubbed himself against you, your clit electric with pleasure, the feeling enveloped you; you were made for each other, lock and key.

"Fuck, I love you," he moans as he enters you, his words fanning over your face, making your heart sing. "I love your pussy, god, it's so fucking perfect," he continues, the words spilling out of him in his exhausted and delirious state. You have nothing in you to respond; you never usually do when he's fucking you, because the way his huge cock stretches you open makes it impossible to think straight.

"No one's ever fucking you again, you're mine forever," he says, his thrusts picking up speed, his arms around you holding you tight. "No one else," he mutters, and you pull his face to yours to kiss him again, your tongues sloppily licking each other's faces as his movements become more erratic, the whole moment feeling alluringly primal. Already you're coming, from the way he's talking to you, your body shuddering in its fatigue and pleasure. "Fuck, baby, god you're so fucking perfect. I love when you come so fast like that," he groans into your ear, his breaths ragged.

"Mingi, mingi...." you whimper, coming down from your peak and already feeling like another is building. Your words barely come out, they're almost incoherent with how warbled they sound, but he can read everything about how you feel from the sounds.

"I know you love it, when I talk you through it," he says, one hand moving to your hip as he thrusts his hips even harder. "You love that I can tell when you're coming, when you're about to come. Fuck, your pussy is made for me baby, it's so fucking perfect. And you love taking it so hard, don't you?"

Another orgasm blooms in your core, your tight walls squeezing down on him again, your legs shaking as you grip onto him desperately. His pace is just perfect, despite how wild it is, and you feel the pleasure through your entire abdomen, intense warmth also emanating from your chest and making you feel entirely complete. Your eyes are completely closed as you take in the feeling, your head drifting farther and farther from the anxiety and anger of earlier and moving towards that palpable warmth. Soft moans leave your lips at every thrust, the sparkly pleasure growing each time, your body taking him in so easily.

"Fuck you're gonna make me come," he groans in your ear, and somehow again, even in your exhausted state, you feel yourself racing towards your own peak yet again. "God I love how you come so much," he whispers, your orgasm hitting you hard. The sounds you make are whiny, pathetic, and it makes his hold body lurch, his movements stuttering as he finally starts hitting his own climax. "No one's ever made you come like this, have they baby?" he says as he comes undone, your head shaking side to side as the last of the tears left in your eyes leak onto your cheeks. He kisses you deeply, as you feel him cum fill you up, your body racked with exhaustion, your energy completely spent. With heavy breaths he falls to the side of you, grabbing you to hold you tight once again, your own breaths uneven as you recover from everything that's just happened. The whole day washes over you; the morning, the way your head pounded and your neck ached when you woke, the way your stomach churned as you sat waiting for him backstage, the way you walked out of the hotel, your head spinning uncontrollably, and the way he came to you, saying everything you'd hoped he one day would. It was all too much to process, and you continued to shake in his arms as you tried to calm down, still feeling your heartbeat in your clit.

"Let me clean you up," he gently says, a hand running down your back in slow stokes.

"Okay," you whisper, your eyes still closed as he gets up, the bed sagging momentarily when he sits on the edge. Quickly he is back with a wet washcloth, his hands working deliberately to wipe down your core and thighs. Suddenly your eyes feel so heavy, your body turned to the side exactly how you always sleep, and then you're out. After cleaning himself up Mingi heads back to the bed, wrapping himself around you, your soft even breaths calming the part of his heart that still felt shattered at everything he found out today. Gently he pulls the covers over you both, his body wracked from the day and from his release, and soon his breaths are steady like yours, the two of you lulled to sleep in the perfect haze that your proximity always brings you.

It was all said in anger or in lust tonight, but you both know that things have changed between you, that the words said tonight were completely true regardless of the circumstances. Finally your feelings were out in the open, and finally you could move forward without any doubt. The gentle dawn of the morning brought both of you out of your deep slumber, the exhaustion hitting hard after the previous day's fight. But the parts of you that had been confused were settled now, and the relief that gave you won out in the competition for your attention. It was a brand new day, a good day with the man you loved by your side, and you couldn't be more excited for the rest of tour, and for whatever the future had in store.

[ellecdc]

part II - Pretty Woman

slow burn poly!wolfstar Pretty Woman (1990) au: established wolfstar, escort!reader, side jegulily, eventual dorlene, political heist-type situation, depictions and descriptions of sex-work

I // II

CW: financial insecurity, Sirius money-is-no-object Black, sugar babe vibes, brief mention of Black family [3.1k words]

link to series masterlist

The words on the page before you began to blur and melt as you watched the way the shadows of the leaves danced across them; the canopy of trees above your fire-escape-turned-balcony swaying in the gentle breeze and providing you with broken bits of shade. 

You almost laughed that out of the two documents Sirius had sent you home with, the legal NDA was rather easy to read through and already signed, sitting safely on your bedside table for your next meeting. 

You were having a harder time with the second document; one that you were supposed to replicate for him.

‘About Me’ it read. And it was - about Sirius, that is. Everything that a long-term girlfriend soon-to-be fiance hopefully one day wife should know.

His favourite colour is black, but there was someone else's font beside it that read “this doesn’t count, Sirius”, to which what you could only assume was Sirius’ scrawl wrote “bloody hell, fine, blue then.” His birthday is November 3rd. He’s a dog person, but Remus likes cats so he thinks he’ll likely have to cave one day and get him a cat. That note made you smile. He wanted to study art history (someone wrote the word ‘nerd’ beside that) but his parents didn’t approve, so he studied architectural design instead. He listed the Godfather as his favourite movie, but when someone wrote ‘liar’ he wrote ‘FINE. It's the 1999 made for TV version of Annie with Kathy Bates’. He’s afraid of spiders, he drinks both his coffee and tea sickly sweet - his favourite drink being a salted caramel latte, he played rugby with James growing up but quit when he decided he didn’t actually like being beaten about for sport. He left out the ‘when I was already being beaten about at home’, but you read it for what it was anyway. He can play piano but hates it, he can play the guitar less well but loves it. He’s littered in tattoos, most can be hidden under dress shirts and such, but there’s one that trails just a little too high up on his neck and a few on his hands. His favourite meal is Remus’ mum’s shepherd's pie, but the Ritz room service always made a really good baked mac and cheese.

You snorted as you threw your head back against the railing behind you - your bum growing numb from sitting on the wrought-iron bars of the fire escape - at the thought of Sirius Black sitting in a premium suite in one of the world’s poshest hotels and ordering macaroni and cheese to his room from a michelin star restaurant. 

What the fuck have I gotten myself into? You wondered wryly as you stood and forced the jammed window to your bedroom back open and crawled through. 

Sirius had offered to pick you up, but you had insisted you would meet him at the mall. Well, actually, Sirius had first offered to transfer you some money to buy a cocktail dress for dinner at his Uncle Alphard’s tomorrow night, but when you’d gone so quiet on the phone that Sirius actually pulled it away from his face to ensure the two of you were still connected, he’d offered to take you instead. 

The dinner at Alphard’s would be a good segway into the Black family nonsense; Alphard’s house would be neutral territory, his parents and other aunts and uncles would be there, but it wouldn’t be their domain. And there would also be Andromeda, her husband Ted, and of course Uncle Alphard to act as buffers.

But that’s not what had Sirius feeling so uncharacteristically nervous right now. He felt silly, sitting here at the Starbucks with sweaty hands as he considered buying a second latte. 

Yeah, he thought wryly, that’s exactly what you need - more caffeine, as if you aren’t already shaky enough. 

Sirius hadn’t felt this anxious since he’d asked Remus out on an actual date back in school. He supposed in many ways, this was a first date of sorts. A first date with the woman who was going to help him bring down his family and all the hate they stood for, with the woman who was going to be accompanying him to events with some of the worst people he knew, the woman who he was going to propose to, who he’d have to bloody marry at some point; blimey what did he get himself into? 

Thankfully you chose that moment to show up, saving Sirius from any further spiralling as he stood so quickly that he almost knocked the small bistro table clean over. 

“Hullo! Fuckin’ hell. Hi!” He stuttered awkwardly as he caught the table and righted his nearly finished coffee.

“Hi.” You murmured softly with a matching smile.

“Hi.” Sirius said again, wiping his hands on his trousers and smiling back at you. 

“Hi.” You repeated; smile growing into a cheekier smirk as you watched him botch this. 

“Great, awesome.” Sirius said with a smile. “You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you.” You laughed.

“Oh, and now you’re lying to me.”

You shook your head and looked down at your feet. Sirius wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting when he hired an escort, but he found he was surprised by how plain a lot of your wardrobe seemed to be. Granted he had only met you twice, but from those two times it had become clear to him that when you weren’t working, you preferred to be nondescript. Classic tees, shirts, and blouses, and denim or, in today’s case, corduroys; you looked vintage and casual, put together in a way without looking like you tried too hard. Though, once again, you were only as nondescript as any pretty woman could be, and he was sure that anyone even remotely attracted to women would absolutely spare you a second glance - corduroys or otherwise. 

But he couldn’t help but admit - at least to himself -  that he was a little bit excited at the prospect of getting to dress you up. 

“Are you- do you want a drink?” Sirius asked as he gestured towards the Starbucks behind him, nearly taking out an errant shopper with his hand causing him to have to call out a hasty apology. 

“Oh, uhm, no, no. I’m good, thank you though.” You declined quickly as you hiked your purse further up on your shoulder, though you were eyeing the store with intrigue.

Ah, Sirius thought to himself, allergic to spending money - I know a thing or two about your type. 

“Listen, gorgeous, we’re going to be spending a lot of money today, so you’d be better to start with something small to ease yourself into it.” He quipped.

He’d been going for light and breezy - even shooting you a cheeky wink - but you seemed to blanche at that. 

“I’m… I don’t have much on me, Sirius…” You started, and Sirius fought the urge to wince at his faux pas.

“My money, doll; we’re going to be spending a lot of my money.” 

“I-”

“It’s number six.”

You turned away from the coffee shop to look at him in bemusement. “What?”

“Number six, how you take your tea and coffee; your favourite drink.” He explained. “Mine’s a salted caramel latte. What’s yours?” 

You took a deep breath as you searched his eyes for a few moments before turning back towards the drink menu. “Are you getting something?”

“I was considering getting a second.” Sirius allowed as he nodded towards his forgotten cup.

“I’ll get it, then.” You offered, and made your way into the shop before Sirius could even respond, returning a few moments later with a salted caramel latte for Sirius and some kind of sweet looking cold brew for yourself. 

“Thank you.” He offered as he accepted the drink from your grasp; your name scrawled prettily on the side of the cup. 

“Don’t mention it.” You whispered back as you took a sip of your own.

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

“What about this one?” Sirius asked for what had to have been the thirteenth time in this store alone as he held up a garment for you to consider. 

You barely spared the dress a half a glance before you were reaching to the sleeve - not coincidentally where the price tag was.

“Would you stop checking the price?” He hissed as he gently swatted your hand away. “Do you like this dress?” 

You made a helpless sound in the back of your throat as you looked between him and the dress again. “I don’t know, Sirius, I- it’s not something I’d ever buy for myself.”

Sirius sighed as he returned the dress to the rack and gave you a Look™. “I do not mean any offence, doll, but I think that’s sort of the point.” He offered softly.

You groaned miserably and cradled your face in your hands. “I’m sorry - I’m being terribly difficult.” 

“You’re not being terribly difficult.” Sirius appeased, waiting for you to peek at him through your fingers. “Only mildly.”

You groaned again but allowed your hands to fall away from your face to land on your hips as you considered the rack in front of you. Your bottom lip dimpled as if you were chewing on the inside of your lip as you turned to a rack behind you that the two of you (read: Sirius) had been looking through moments ago and sifted through it again.  

“That would be a nice colour on you.” He offered as you paused on a dress. You kept your face pointed towards the dress but looked up at him through your eyelashes before pulling the dress out and holding it up against him.

“Now, I don’t know what you think you know about my family, but generally, I save my dress wearing for when I’m in the privacy of my own home or at a very specific bar.”

Sirius watched as your nose crinkled before you were dropping the garment and lowering your chin to your chest in an attempt to hide your snickering; Sirius momentarily wished you wouldn’t. 

“I didn’t mean for you,” you chided through a giggle as you held the dress back up against him; he didn’t argue this time, “I was checking to see if the colour looks good on you as well.”

Sirius found his cheeks flaming hot as the question ‘and does it?’ settled on the tip of his tongue. But, like the fucking prat he is, all he managed to spit out was “of course it does, I look good in everything.” 

You rolled your eyes good naturedly and muttered something that sounded an awful lot like ‘git’  under your breath before nodding once. “I think I’ll get this one, then.”

“Great job.” He said as he swiped the dress from you and folded it over his arm. “Now pick three more and then we can head to the next store.”

“Thre- next store? Sirius, I-”

“I told you we were spending a lot of money today, Y/N, I meant it.” He said simply as he encouraged you forward by the small of your back. You sounded as though you were going to say something but acquiesced when he patted your hip twice before pulling his hand away from you. 

“You don’t wear a lot of colour, I’ve noticed.” Sirius offered, swinging the bags he was carrying casually in his hands as the two of you slowly made your way through the mall after purchasing shoes ‘to go with the dresses, doll’ and even some sodding bags ‘think of it as an investment, gorgeous; you’re an employee, and working for me comes with a uniform. I’m providing you with a uniform’. 

You looked at him sideways as you continued walking, trying to ignore the feeling of everyone doing double takes to see a girl looking so plain with designer bags in her hands and a certified adonis by her side. If he hadn’t told you his favourite colour was black, you would have guessed as much just from the sheer amount of it he wore. But whereas you wore a fair amount of black in an attempt to disappear - to blend in - he seemed to do it to make his own statement; it stood out in stark contrast against his fair skin, and depending on what he was wearing, complimented his many (visible) tattoos nicely. It also left his eyes - a grey blue - appearing that much more brilliantly bright and striking.

All this to say, he wasn’t one to talk.

“No…” You allowed. “Neither do you, though.”

“Touche.” He offered you with a wink - or, what you were sure was a wink - behind his sunglasses as the window-pane roof let in an unusual amount of sunlight for this time of year in the UK. “Why don’t you, though?”

You sighed as you stepped onto the escalator going down and redistributed your bags in your hands instead of answering right away. “I get looked at more than I’d like to already.” You admitted quietly. “I… I get enough attention, I don’t need to garner any more.”

You weren’t looking at Sirius but you could feel his gaze on you before he nodded his head in your periphery. “I get that, I think. Growing up in a political family came with a lot of attention. Then being the runaway, then playing the poster child again.”

You hummed an acknowledgement. “You seem to lean into it, though?” You hadn’t meant it to be offensive, but when Sirius’ mouth opened in a disbelieving laugh, your stomach dropped. “Not- no, I’m- that’s not what I-”

“Relax, babe. I get it.” He waved you off as the two of you stepped off the escalator. “It’s true; I always sort of figured, they’re looking at me anyways, you know? Might as well give them something to talk about.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, only breaking it to apologise when one of you brushed against the other with one of the many bags adorning your hands.

“Where’d you park?” Sirius asked as the two of you stepped out into the daylight. Fuck, you hadn’t thought this through.

You were expecting to shop for maybe one dress for tomorrow’s dinner, and you were planning to shove the garment into your purse for the train ride back home. There was simply no way you could manage public transport with this many bags, and the chances of you being mugged on your way increased significantly for every designer bag you had. 

You wondered if the clothes would even be safe in your flat at all, knowing the only locks that you trusted were the chain bolted to the front door that you installed yourself, and the piece of wood you jammed in your window at the fire escape so no one could open it from the outside. 

“Y/N?”

“No. Uhm, sorry.” You started, looking towards Sirius but not necessarily at him. “Actually, I’m- well, do you think I could keep them at your place? I…I don’t- I don’t necessarily want my neighbours knowing I have this kind of stuff in my flat.”

Sirius’ eyes softened and you felt a little guilty at the half truth, but soldiered on. “I’d just hate to come home from work one day to find it all missing, you know?” You tried to joke. 

You swore Sirius’ mouth pinched slightly before he schooled his expression and redistributed the bags he was currently holding into one hand and held out his free one to take yours. 

“Oh! I could help-”

“That’s alright, doll, I’ve got it.” He said as he relinquished your bags from you. “Tomorrow, then? I assume you’ll be getting ready at my place? Do you want a ride?”

“No! No, that’s alright, I’ll meet you there if you just want to send me your address.” 

The two of you said goodbye and you watched Sirius walk through the car park until he disappeared behind a row of vehicles, and you stepped back into the mall to wait for the next train that didn’t come for another 45 minutes. 

Sirius let out a breath as he closed the door to his and Remus’ townhouse behind him; the sounds of the London streets melting away to the odd honk or occasional car door closing as he began searching their home.

He needn’t search long, however, finding Remus exactly where he knew he would be.

”Did’ya have a good day?” Remus asked without looking up from the potatoes he was peeling, though he did turn his face slightly to reciprocate the kiss Sirius pressed to his cheek. 

“Yeah, not bad.” Sirius agreed in an exhale as he disposed of the many shopping bags onto the kitchen island.

Remus opened his mouth as he turned - no doubt about to scold Sirius for messing up his clean kitchen - when his face pinched in confusion.

”I thought you were going shopping for Y/N?” 

“We did.”

”Sirius!”

”Remus.” Sirius shot back as he made himself comfortable on one of the high stools.

”You’re going to scare her away.” Remus muttered as he washed and dried his hands before coming over to peek inside of the bags, pulling the documents you had returned to Sirius out of one of them. 

“She was much more tolerable than you were when I first took you shopping.” 

Remus shot him an unimpressed glare though he didn’t bother gracing him with a response as he leaned back against the counter and flipped through the pages in his hands. “Why didn’t she take any of this with her?” He asked as he motioned to the bags now littering his kitchen island.

Sirius felt his own mouth pinch in displeasure as he recounted your reasoning. “She said she was worried her neighbours would see - didn’t want anyone to know she had anything of value in her flat.”

Remus made a sympathetic hum as Sirius pondered what it was exactly about that sentiment that left such a bad taste in his mouth. 

“Sounds like my flat back on 31st.” 

Sirius groaned at the memory of Remus’ flat he had back in university. Sirius had spent the first eight months of his and Remus’ relationship begging him to move in with him and James; he’d already spent most nights there in Sirius’ bed anyways! But Remus was proud and argued with Sirius when he said as much.

”I hated when you lived there.” He grumbled, and Sirius pretended not to notice Remus’ eyebrow lift as he considered him. 

“Yeah?” He asked as he turned back towards his potatoes with a muted grin. “So did I.” 

[maracujatangerine]

89. Leaving

CW: medical, institutional slavery, pet whump, dehumanisation, box boy universe

Coriander was still a bit unsteady when he walked out through the main entrance of the hospital, arm in arm with Lydia and Indira. His long blonde hair intermingling with Lydia’s brown and Indira’s black locks.

The cold air of the overcast winter’s afternoon enveloped them. Lydia took a deep breath in relief.

Leaving the hospital had been undramatic. Indira had changed into her private clothes and wore black jeans with a marine and white knitted woollen jumper. With combined efforts, they had helped Cory change into a dusky orange t-shirt and dark grey joggers. Then, they had just wheeled Coriander to the entrance, left the wheelchair in its designated place, and helped the young man to walk away.

There was no reason for anyone to react. Cory seemed a little bit dizzy, still, but that was hardly out of place at a hospital. His bandaged arm poking out from the sleeve of his black jacket clearly marked him out as a patient, even without the hospital gown. Still, Lydia felt an immense sense of relief as the automatic doors swished closed behind them.

After walking the short distance to Indira’s car, they both helped the pet into the back, behind the driver’s seat. Lydia reached over and buckled Cory’s seat belt for him before closing the door. India sat down in the front and Lydia walked around the car to sit next to Cory in the back.

Both women sighed when they closed the car doors.

“Oh my god.” Lydia laughed. ”That was… something. Good that you are quick at thinking on your feet, Indira!”

Indira nodded, closing her eyes for a second, then smiling at them both.

“It was… a bit more intense than expected. But we got clean x-rays.” She playfully hit the wheel of the car in triumph. “Still a success, I’d say!”

Lydia turned solicitously towards Coriander.

“How are you doing, love? I’m so sorry that it was difficult for you. You were very brave.” She nodded to emphasise her words. “How are you feeling now?”

“T-this pet i-is fine, Miss Lydia.”

Coriander did not look fine. His eyes were still red from crying. He still shivered with long, drawn-out tremors shaking his whole body in an undercurrent of fear. Lydia and Indira had felt him shaking on the way to the car, and the shivers did not seem like they were going to let up any time soon.

“It is all over now. Let’s just go home and take it easy, yeah?” She smiled encouragingly. “I’m very proud of you, and I would like to spoil you for a bit. Maybe we can watch a movie and have a bit of cake, or what do you say?”

“M-maybe t-this pet would like to r-rest for a while.”

“That sounds good. Maybe you can have a little nap?”

Lydia studied Coriander. The lines of pain around his eyes and mouth that had faded over the long time that they had spent together, were once again visible. His face was pale. He looked worn out to the bone. She could see the shivers racking his body, making his hands shake. His hair fell down, covering his eyes. Gently, she reached out to smooth away those tresses, wanting to pet her hand over his hair to calm him.

Coriander jerked away.

Lydia started in surprise.

Grey eyes met hers for a moment, then Cory lowered his gaze.

Very quietly, he spoke.

“P-please, Miss Lydia. T-this p-pet cannot bear to be touched… to be touched right now.”

“Oh.” Lydia slowly let her hand fall. “S-sure.” She said. “That’s totally fine. Whatever feels best for you.”

Indira watched in the rear-view mirror, a sudden, sinking feeling in her stomach.

Coriander sat as far away towards the door as possible. He looked out through the window with a totally impassive face, emotionless and beautiful like a doll.

On the other side of the car, Lydia also looked out the window. She didn’t make a sound, but Indira could see her biting her lower lip hard to keep it from shivering. Her brown eyes wide and blank with tears.

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards-blog @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[knightmareaceblue]

A redraw of the group photo from the Nether hopping arc! I wanted to get in more practice drawing the characters in this specific style, and also see if I can fix some issues with their designs that were bugging me. I... mostly succeeded on that 2nd part?

Some notes regarding these CG designs (plus some headcannons):

-Red's outfit frustrates me, because I like it a lot without colour, but once I start trying to add colour it always ends up looking off. The current colour scheme is fine, I guess, but I'm a little torn on whether or not the colours suit Red, and not making him too close to the other colour schemes present (which I like a lot more).

-Red's outfits will often have animal motifs designed into them. Usually cat, rabbit, or pig, but they have all sorts of animal clothes.

-Though it can't usually be seen due to not drawing them with their hood up often, Red's hoodie has cat ears. The reason I don't usually draw the hood up is because I like drawing his hair too much.

-Red will alternate between gloves, bracelets, and, post AVM season 3, a yellow headband and armbands.

-Under the hoodie Red will usually wear a tank top or crop top. Though it can't be seen in this photo, the arm holes for the hoodie are incredibly large, so Red's top can sometimes be seen when lifting her arms or looking at them from the side.

-In general, I do like Yellow's outfit. It suits her personality well and has some good colours. My primary concern is that it may be too... plain? Stereotypical? Basically, that it's too stereotypically 'nerd' to be interesting. But I can't come up with anything better, so this'll be her default outfit for now.

-What I do like on Yellow, however, is the hair. I think the short hair with a singular braid is really cool. A nice mix of neat and practical and stylish, especially mixed with the glasses.

-One issue I do have is with the boots. All the shoes in general, actually. They all look so samey, especially Blue and Yellow's boots. This is a pretty simplistic style I'm drawing in though, and I don't want to make anything too complicated. Why do shoes have to be so stupid?

-I used to have the same problem with Second's outfit as with Red's - particularly, with their shirt. However, that's when I realized that Second is an artist, and can change their shirt design at the drop of a hat. So, now the shirt has a different drawing on it regularly. Second will try to use all their friends colours in their designs. If they leave a person off, it usually means their either consciously or subconsciously upset with that stick. If they don't draw on their shirt at all and leave it blank, it usually means something's up with them.

-I also added leggings from the previous design. It felt right.

-Both Second and Chosen dislike shoes. I will not elaborate, but Second's tolerance is better than Chosen. He can handle it for short periods of time, but is usually grumpy and will kick them off first chance he gets.

-I like to imagine Second using her large, poofy hair to put things in, the same way she'd put things in their inventory. I also like to imagine Green is low-key horrified by this, while Red, Blue, and Yellow will also use her fluff to store things. Sometimes without Second even noticing.

-Second carries the belt with them in their hair in their inventory and will put it on before fighting/platforming so their oversized shirt doesn't get in their way. Otherwise they prefer to have their clothing loose and flowing.

-Everyone has a multicoloured accessory. Second was the one who started it with his bracelet, then the others wanted some too so Second drew up more for the gang. An anklet for Red, an armband for Yellow, a belt for Green, and a neckerchief for Blue.

-Green may just have the best outfit of everyone here. It's sleek, it's cool, it suits them, and it's easy to fight in (with an easily striped jacket if need be). I also added a lil choker.

-I don't think I expressed this before, but I didn't like Green's previous hairstyle. Something about it irked me, but I couldn't place what at the time. Now I know it'd needed more on top, haha.

-Blue's outfits tend to be more on the practical side, since they do a lot of manual labour, but with bits of fun and whimsy added in. After AvM Season 3, she trades her funny socks for long funny socks and fun stockings.

-The original intent was for everyone to have a different type of hair, but Blue's and Yellow's ended up a lot more similar than I'd hope. The idea was for Blue to have really thick hair, but it's hard to tell. Might think of something else later.

-Anyone who wants something different can go to Second and ask. They all have their own things they like, but they're all willing to try almost anything, with very little exception.

Feel free to let me know your thoughts. I think I really like these character designs I came up with. :)

Original pic used for reference:

[sturniolo-simp4life]

perfect enemy 2

y/n has been close friends with the triplets. Well, with 2 off them. The one thing she knows is- Matt absolutely hates her. She doesn’t know why, but he does. Or does he?

warnings- cursing. PREVIOUS PART

series taglist. NEXT PART.

A MONTH EARLIER it was litterly any normal Monday. You waited in front of the boy’s locker room, since hockey practice was about to end.

A boy of smell boys walked out of the locker room, passing by you, until you saw Chris and nick.

and him.

the smile wiped off of your face as Matt smirked at you. “Aww, someone’s grumpy this morning.” He teased.

“Ugh Matt, it’s too early for this.” Nick said.

“I agree,” you muttered as the 4 of you started to walk through the hallways.

the bell rang, and you made it too your first class, which you unfortunately shared with Matt.

“alright class, we will begin with a group project.” A collective sound of groans flooded the classroom, making the teacher roll her eyes.

“You will be paired in groups of 2. Unfortunately, I have prepared groups for you, because our class can’t seem to behave, considering what happened last time you got to choose partners.” The teacher glared at 2 snickering boys.

even more groans where heard across the class. “Alright I will beginning calling names. You will move next to your partner.”

she began calling names, until yours was called. “Y/n and… Matt.”

you couldn’t be fucking serious. You looked to Matt, who was already smirked at you. You glared and turned around.

he came and set his stuff next to you. “Hey princess.” He teased. “Shut up,” you snapped.

“quiet down everyone. For this project, it will be about entrepreneurship. Your objective is to design a t-shirt and phone case based on the school mascot. The first week you will spend researching for softwares and sourcing materials.”

‘This shouldn’t be too hard,’ you thought. You were a really creative person, so you figured it wouldn’t be too hard.

‘Matt is gonna make this so fucking hard me,’ you internally groaned.

Matt could sense your unease. “What’s wrong princess? Worried I’m going mess up this project?” He snickered.

You shot him a glare. “I don’t care if you don’t do shit. But mess up this project for me? Me and you are going to have a far worse problem.”

he lifted up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Someone’s angy.”

you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“You should come over after school. For the project I mean.” He said after a moment of silence.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you want a good grade or not?” He said. You sighed and reluctantly agreed. “Fine.”

you felt an odd sense of anxiety as you walked up to his house. You had been to their house plenty of times— why were you nervous now?

you shook the thought as your rung the doorbell.

you where met by Chris. “Oh, hey y/n. What are you doing here?” He asked. “Hey. Uhh, is Matt home?” The words felt foreign coming out of your mouth.

Chris’s mouth dropped slightly. “Asking for Matt? Damn— that’s a first.” He chuckled. “I think he’s in his room.”

you mumbled a thanks and entered the house. You looked around and began to walk up the stairs.

His door was slightly ajar, and you peaked into it. He was on his bed, scrolling through his phone. His hair was fluffy and mess, and his lips were almost red.

Just looking at him made butterflies fly in your stomach. Wait, butterflies?

you shuddered in the thought. Matt was attractive, but there’s no way you were attracted to him. Right?

“like what you see?” His voice snapped you out of your trance. “In your dreams,” you muttered as you walked in.

“Alright so I was thinking we should do these 2 colors,” you said as you opened your laptop. You showed him.

he grimaced. “Hell no. We should do Red and blue instead.” You glared at him. “Red and black looks better.”

Matt groaned and rolled his eyes. “Just do all three, since you’re so stuck up.” You scoffed.

This was going to be a long evening.

It’s kind of boring but bare with me guys, it’s coming 😬

taggys-heartsforsturniolo567 fratbrochrisgf lizzysmith110 hottiirr ilovechrissturniolosposts luvbotsblog

[razorblade180]

9 days of Lancaster Day 8: Beach Day

Ruby:Jauuuuuune! You ready for next week’s team environmental bonding training!? AKA, the beach!?

Jaune:Umm, yeah. I’m sure it’ll be fun.

Ruby:..Don’t tell me you can’t swim?

Jaune:I can swim fine. Although if I’m honest I’m probably build a sandcastle or something. Maybe read.

Ruby:You sound like Blake. I need you amped! We gotta wipe Yang’s smug look off her face in volleyball.

Jaune:As long as Nora’s on our team.

Ruby:Obviously. Hey, are you already done packing? I didn’t even see you shop.

Jaune:Ren got most of the travel stuff like sunscreen.

Ruby:You owned beach clothes already?

Jaune:I mean…sorta? I have trunks and y’know, a cozy top.

Ruby:Like a divine shirt?

Jaune:More like a…beach hoodie.

Ruby:Jaune, it’s gonna be in the triple digits when we go.

Jaune:I’ll live.

Ruby:Yeah in an emergency room! What’s with you? Do you have a weird scar or something?

Jaune:No. I…*rubs arm* I don’t know. Being shirtless really isn’t my thing. Never had the confidence.

Ruby:Really? I mean i get it; especially before training but you look good! Nora calls you Mr. Muscle.

Jaune:Hehe, yeah it’s a wild thing. I know it’s in my head but after getting picked on when I was younger I kinda became self conscious. Hoodies have always felt cozier after that.

Ruby:….Wanna make a deal?

Jaune:A deal?

Ruby:I actually have been trying to gain more confidence in myself and shake off some awkwardness. I was planning on wearing this older one piece I own. But, there’s also a part of me that wants to try a bikini for the first time. If you step out of your comfort zone then I will do it too. We can be awkward together.

Jaune:I bet you would look nice in a one piece though.

Ruby:….

Jaune:..Yeah, that didn’t sound quite right coming from your boyfriend in this situation.

Ruby:I got the sentiment, but yeah. Not your finest moment. *holds his hands* Let’s take the plunge together. We can even be a little gross and get matching outfits. *smiles*

Jaune:Haha. That would be something, wouldn’t it? I…eh, why not? Sure, let’s try.

Ruby:Yussss!

xxxxxx

The fateful day arrived. After lots of second guessing himself, Jaune stood on corse hot sand underneath a recently planted umbrella . His hoodie was nowhere in sight and his new white swimming trunks fit nicely. All he knew about the design was the at the right leg had a gray pail pouring water out of it like one of those watering buckets.

???: Nora might be onto something with Mr. Muscle.

He turned around to see a red reaper holding her beach bag. More importantly, on her was the bikini she picked in secret. It was the average cut for a standard bikini, with the top being green on the straps and upper rim. Meanwhile, the cups and bottom were bright red with a few yellowish specks. Jaune quickly realized Ruby was a red as the strawberry design she chose.

Ruby:S-So? Any thoughts? How do I look?

Jaune:Edible.

Ruby:!?

Jaune:That’s not- I mean- *covers face*…. You look really nice. Man this hasn’t been my week.

Ruby removed the boy’s hands to get a good look at him. He wasn’t as cut as her but man did he bulk up! Not too much though. Jaune was still pretty lean and Ruby found that wonderful. She moved her arms under his own and gave a gentle hug while her fingers traced his back.

Ruby:If ya ask me, you look, feel, and smell good. I’m one lucky gal.

Jaune:*red* Thanks. I’m pretty lucky too. *hugs her*

Ruby:Well your luck isn’t over. I kinda need your help. *pulls out sunscreen*

Jaune:..You’re really trying give me a heart attack.

Ruby:Hahaha!

[mixxiew]

cruise of love | hc

chapter one: king of the walkway

The steady hum of the cruise ship’s engines was a soothing backdrop as yn made her way down the sun-drenched promenade deck, her eyes glistening with excitement. This was it—her chance to explore the world, all thanks to the Semester at Sea program. With a tote bag slung over her shoulder and a camera in hand, she looked around, absorbing the moment while looking for her friends.

The salty breeze tousled her hair as she paused to snap a photo of the endless expanse of blue water. Everything felt surreal, like stepping into a dream.

“Out of my way” a sharp, impatient voice snapped, pulling yn from her thoughts.

She turned her head just in time to see a boy storming toward her, his designer sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose and a luxury duffle bag slung lazily over his shoulder. He didn’t slow down—didn’t even glance her way—before colliding into her with a solid thud.

“Hey!” yn stumbled back, nearly losing her grip on her camera. She caught it just in time, cradling it protectively as she glared up at the boy.

He stopped and turned, his face twisted in irritation. “I’m sorry are you talking to me?” His tone was dripping with annoyance, and his piercing gaze made her bristle.

She chuckled a little. “Yeah? You just bumped into me and almost made my camera fall, you should at least say sorry?”

He looked at her, slowly lowering his glasses just to have a better look. “And what are you doing standing in the middle of the walkway?”

“I’m sorry, what?” yn shot back, her voice rising with disbelief. “You’re the one who wasn’t paying attention!”

“Right, because I’m supposed to watch out for random people blocking the way” he retorted with a scoff, crossing his arms. His expensive white shirt and tailored trousers screamed wealth, as did the watch on his wrist that probably cost more than yn’s entire scholarship.

yn squared her shoulders, not backing down. “Random people? Sorry, I didn’t realize this was your walkway, Mr. Entitled.”

For a moment, he looked startled—like he wasn’t used to anyone talking back to him. Then a slow, amused smirk spread across his face. “You’re so bold for someone who clearly doesn’t belong here.”

Her jaw tightened. She knew what he meant, and it stung more than she wanted to admit. But she refused to let him see that. “And what exactly makes me not belong? The fact that I don’t walk around with a stick up my—”

“You should watch your mouth” he interrupted, taking a step closer to her, his tone turning icy though the smirk never left his lips.

“Why? Afraid I might hurt your fragile ego?” yn shot back, tilting her head defiantly.

His eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses, and for a moment, she thought she’d gone too far. But then he chuckled, low and soft. It wasn’t friendly—more like he was intrigued.

“What’s your name?” he asked suddenly, his voice softer but still carrying that air of superiority.

“Why? So you can report me to the Cruise Walkway Police?” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

That made him laugh, an actual laugh this time, and yn blinked in surprise. “You’re feisty. I’ll give you that” he said, removing his sunglasses just to reveal sharp, intelligent eyes that studied her with interest. “Not what I expected from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” she echoed, her voice dripping with mockery. “You really love your vague insults, don’t you?”

He grinned, stepping even closer. “It’s not vague if it’s true. But fine—since you’re being so difficult, I’m Haechan.” He said it like his name should mean something to her.

“Good for you” yn said back. “I’ll make sure to write it down in my diary later.”

And after that she just turned around, walking away mad as hell while he just stared at her back getting away.

And for the first time in a long time, Haechan found himself intrigued by someone other than himself.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.

masterlist | next

౨ৎauthor’s note: first chapter up!! hope you like it, there will be some written parts here and there just beautiful i love writing! 😄 hope you enjoy it! (yeah the enemies to lovers is just bc haechan doesn’t know how to express his feelings;)

౨ৎ taglist! @dlin3 @haechology @iamsimplyasimp

[sweetbillwriting]

The Key To His Heart - II

Description: As a hard working novelist and single dad hasn't Bill had much time for dating but gets an unorthodox chance to meet women when his friend persuades him to be a part of a dating TV show.

Characters: AU Bill Skarsgård where his life changes in 2013 and later 2019.

Setting: L.A, 2024 but in an alternative universe where Bill having a completely different life.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Bill's Guests:

Maria: Writer, 38.

Violet: Entrepreneur, 22.

Camila: Engineer, 31.

Victoria: Shop assistant, 34.

Sandra: Fashion designer, 36.

Julie: Model, 25.

Esmeralda: Model, 27.

Rose: Personal trainer, 22.

Odette: Pediatrician, 33.

Tiffany: Actress, 30.

Sienna: Painter, 28.

Brigitte: Chef, 29.

×××

“Why not?” Bill looked irritated at Herman, who had come in unannounced into his bedroom. The bedroom and office were those places they could talk without the camera team and the girls close by. Bill had just come out of the shower and dried himself with the towel without shyness. Even if it was Herman who had taken the liberty to walk into his room, he looked away uncomfortably when Bill let the towel drop to the floor.

“It's too predictable. The viewers will already know Camila is your favorite.”

Herman didn't let Bill ask her out for his evening date and instead wanted him to choose someone who wasn't as expected. Bill was really annoyed, he believed he would get to make his own decisions.

“Is this how it's going to be? Will you pick who I choose in the end too?”

“No, just that I will help you make wise decisions.”

Bill laughed unamused and pulled on a pair of dark gray boxers.

“If you couldn’t pick Camila, who would you choose then?”

“I’ll take a night for myself on the couch.”

Herman sighed deeply. Even if he knew Bill was stubborn, he hadn't expected he would start with those sort of childish behaviors.

Bill pulled on a pair of black loose fitting slacks but left his upper body bare so he could dry his hair without dripping water on the shirt.

“Bill,” said Herman in a parentified tone.

“Fine, Rose then? Is that okay?” Said Bill, still with attitude.

“That's a great choice, Bill! Then you can invite Camila for the group date.”

Bill didn't say anything, still annoyed that Herman decided who he would spend his time with. He had thought this would be a way for him to meet a woman and had forgotten that the first and foremost purpose of the circus was to entertain an audience. He was stupid for having forgotten that, but Herman had sold it to him so nicely.

When Herman had left and Bill had fixed his hair, he pulled on a white t-shirt. It was time for him to go down to the women, but it didn't feel as good now as it had done earlier; he felt dirty like he fooled them all.

×××

Bill looked at the girls while they ate breakfast. They had placed him at the head of the table so all of the women could see him eat his scrambled eggs. Discreetly, he looked at what they ate. Sandra ate an omelet, Victoria a big plate of fruit, Tiffany ate scrambled eggs just like himself, Maria yogurt with berries, and Sienna toast with marmalade. He gave Camila a look, and she looked back at him with a smile. She also ate yogurt, but as plain as it had been in its package.

He smiled back at her but sighed. He wanted to be with her, not Rose or anyone else; he wanted to be just with her.

“Bill?” Said Brigitte from the kitchen counter but walked up to him.

“Hm?” He looked at her a bit surprised. She had her mahogany colored hair gathered in a long braid over her shoulder. She smiled at him sweetly and gave him an off-white envelope. It had a red wax seal that reminded him of a Hogwarts letter but he brushed that thought away when he saw it was heart-shaped.

He gave Brigitte a little smile and waited for her to sit down before he opened it.

(Read out loud)

Good Morning! Today you will have your first group date, but it will also be the first evening date where Bill picks what girl he wants to have some special time with! Bill will announce what girls he wants to see on the group date and also what lucky girl gets to spend the rest of the day with him!

(Group date: Sienna, Odette, Camila, and Esmeralda.

Evening date: Rose.)

Bill read the part they wanted him to read out loud in a light, cheery way. He was happy right then that he still knew how to act because on the inside he boiled. This was not what he thought it would be. He didn't think his love life would be directed like this, but he just needed to hold up the facade; hopefully it would lead to something good.

“Ehm… I chose Odette, Esmeralda, Sienna, and Camila for the group date, and… I wonder if you, Rose, would want to see me tonight?”

Bill still had great acting chops, but asking a girl out for a date would always make him shy. He looked at Rose, who was still make-up-free and now a bit rosy in her cheeks from a hot shower. She got even more pink when he asked her the question.

“Yes, yes, of course!” She giggled a little but stopped herself when she realized the girls surrounding her were visibly jealous. Bill smiled at her, genuinely happy to see her excited, but by accident he looked towards Camila. She sat with her eyes low and dragged her spoon through the yogurt. She probably had believed he would ask her. He wanted to say to her that it wasn't his choice to go with someone else, but he couldn't; he needed to follow his contract, and it stated clearly that he couldn't talk about the production with the girls. He looked around at the other girls, some were disappointed, even annoyed, while others looked pleased. He looked at Odette, who ate a piece of pear with her fingers; when she turned to him, she smiled with her eyes. She was amazingly beautiful and reminded him of some actress from the 90s. He smiled at her because he was curious to know more about her, but even so, he felt his heart being weighed down by bad conscience for Camila.

×××

Before the date, Bill took his right to some alone time but also received even more information from Herman. He was already tired of his nagging. 

“The date will be a hike. The girls have received a letter about it. But Bill, I know you like Camila, but you can't favor her, and it's not okay to do anything-”

Bill spun around in his computer chair and didn't seem to want to listen to Herman. 

“Bill! Could you just listen? I get that you don't like the rules, but it is a TV show.” 

Bill sighed and stopped the chair. His head was even spinning, so he was a bit glad he could stop spinning physically. 

“Yeah, yeah. I get it; I must give all the girls time.” He cleared his throat and then turned towards the laptop on his office table. 

“And nothing… No kisses or so.” 

Bill didn't say anything because even if he agreed with Herman, he wanted to decide for himself what he would do. He didn't have a problem giving all the women attention and doing what they wanted, but Herman nagging him like a parent was just too much for his patience. 

He continued to work on his own things and tried to pretend he was alone, but the whole time his heart beated with stress by knowing the girls were spread out in his house and he could meet someone of them whatever he did. 

××× 

He met the girls invited to the group date on the porch. He had hiked quite a lot and liked walking in different terrain and weather. Today the sun stood high in the sky and made the air hot and dry. It would be a rough walk, and he wondered if they were prepared for that when he looked at how they were dressed. The first thing he noticed were Esmeralda's jeans shorts. They were short and seemed to ride up between her thighs while she moved. The next thing he noticed was Sienna's choice of shoes. Vans. Camila wore a tight black set that mostly looked good for taking selfies in the gym mirror. The only one who looked prepared was Odette, who even wore a bucket hat, ready for the hot sun. 

“Have you hiked before?” He asked them with a crooked smile. 

“I walk a lot with my dog, out in the forest and so on, but never like over mountains,” said Esmeralda with a laugh. Her energy felt really different from the first time he met her, and he thought to himself that he maybe had judged her too fast. 

“No… I'm a bit afraid of bugs,” said Sienna, a bit embarrassed. 

“Yeah, me too! I don't even like being outside that way,” said Camila and shrugged her shoulders. Bill looked at Odette, who stood and listened to the others. 

“What about you, Odette?” 

“Ehm, my family has camped a lot, and I was raised close to nature.” She sounded embarrassed, like the other girls’ answers were the right ones just because they were in the majority. 

“Yeah, that's cool. I guess you will lead the way then.” He wanted to encourage her because he liked a girl who wanted to exercise and challenge herself. Odette smiled warmly at him. 

“We can do it together.” 

Bill smiled back, and for a few seconds he forgot the other girls surrounding them, even Camila. 

They were given a ride to their destination in a minibus, and it was then he noticed some actual competition between the girls. It seemed like all of them tried to avoid getting into the car so they could be the lucky one who got to sit next to him. It was silly, but he couldn't lie to himself; he loved it. They were actually fighting for his attention. When Bill said a second time they could jump into the bus, Odette jumped in, then Esmeralda and Sienna. Camila became the winner, who got to sit next to him, pressing her leg against his. Bill was pleased it was she who won, and he took the moment to smell her spicy perfume and talk lowly to her about the places they went by. She liked trying new restaurants too, so when they went by one they both visited, they really spoke. Bill smiled big while talking to her, loving everything she said, but also how she said it. He loved her mouth and the shade of her lipstick. For a short second, he wondered why she wore lipstick to a hike, but it disappeared quickly when she laid her hand on his thigh. 

××× 

The sun was really gazing at them while they walked up the hill. He walked next to Odette, and they smirked at each other when they heard how the other girls complained. 

“Maybe we should give them a break?” Bill asked her. “And we can talk a little, just you and me?” 

Odette nodded happily. 

“There seems to be a resting spot up there.” 

Bill replied with a nod, then looked back at the others. Esmeralda pulled on her shorts’ legs over and over; Sienna seemed to have shoe chafing. Camila looked so warm she was close to fainting. 

“I think a break is a good idea.” 

“Yes please!” Camila said, exhausted, while the other girls nodded. 

They ogled him and Odette when they walked away and sat down on a stone by themselves, but it didn't seem like they had energy to do anything else than sit in the grass. Someone on the TV team talked with them, and Bill could guess they wanted to quit. He looked at Odette, who didn't look so affected at all, just a shiny forehead and nose. 

“You're a doctor, right?” 

“Yes, a pediatrician. I love it. It has been my dream job since I was a little girl.” 

“But isn't it hard? Working with sick kids?” 

“Of course it is. But…” She shrugged her shoulders and looked out over the view. “You can't stay in that. It's awful that kids get sick and even die, but they also survive, and I can be a part of that. I can make that change.” 

They were beautiful words, and Bill felt himself start to look at Odette in another way than before. She was that strong kind of woman, that sort who gives everything, every day. It was admirable but also really sexy. They continued to talk about her work but also places they had hiked or wanted to visit. Bill wanted to visit Oceania more, and Odette agreed. When they smiled at each other, they knew the other also thought about how it would be if they did it together. 

××× 

The TV team decided they would end the hike because of the girls’ state. It was disappointing that they couldn't survive a hiking trip, but he hid his negative emotions and looked at them with empathy. Esmeralda had gotten rashes on the inside of her thighs but tried to hide that fact from Bill, and Sienna cried silently because of her shoe chafing. Camila didn't say anything though, and Bill wondered to himself if she would have been able to continue, even if she was dressed in black spandex. 

They walked down the hill again in silence; they wouldn't go down the whole way, just to the highest place cars could park. It wasn't that long, but Bill noticed Sienna had problems keeping up, and he stopped to wait on her. She limped because of her foot but brushed away her tears when she saw Bill. 

“Are you okay?” He asked and fixed his cap so it sat a bit higher so he could see her better. 

“Yeah…”

Bill nodded towards a stone behind some bushes and, with a bit of a doubt, Sienna sat down on it. Bill searched through the pockets of his pants and found a bandaid. 

“Hopefully it'll help some…” he said and sat down in front of her and helped her off with her burgundy Vans shoe. She grimaced when he pulled it off her heel, and Bill looked at the wound. It was deep and bloody. 

“Didn't you have other shoes with you?” Sienna shook her head while she watched Bill put the bandaid on.

“I don't have such shoes.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I would never use them.” 

“Don't you work out or something?” 

Sienna shook her head. 

“Not really.” Bill nodded a little; he himself worked out as much as he could, so he couldn't really understand how she could function without it. 

Sienna stood up carefully but grimaced again. The bandaid didn't seem to make much of a difference. Bill waited for her, and together they walked down the hill. Bill noticed her focus was to just walk, so he didn't say anything, but if he was being honest, he didn't feel like he had so much to say either. Something with their chemistry was off. He didn't feel excited or curious walking with her; instead, he felt a bit annoyed. He liked hiking and being outside, but that had been ruined. 

“This is really not my thing, I would never do this kind of thing otherwise,” she said with a pained laugh. Bill smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders. 

“It's not for everyone.” 

When they came down to the minibus, a person in the team arranged how they would sit, so now Bill would sit next to Esmeralda instead. She laughed at how wrong everything had gotten and at how stupid she had been taking those shorts. 

“I've never worn them before but believed it would be cute!” 

Bill smiled amused at her. She really was different from the cocktail party. 

“They are cute, but maybe not for hiking,” he said, looking at the light denim shorts. 

“So typical of me to not be practical at all. Are you practical?” 

He pursed his lips for a few seconds before answering. 

“I think so? Most often, at least. I guess having kids... Do you have kids?” He realized he just took for granted she didn’t just because she was quite young. 

“Yeah, I have a son who will be four in December,” she said with a proud smile. 

“Really? What's his name?” His smile broadened; he liked the idea of being with someone with kids, who knew how it is. 

“Carlton. He's the sweetest. He's like a little old man—no drama at all. How are your girls?” 

“Ehm, the oldest is drama. I think she has inherited that from my side of the family. The younger one is a thinker. I think she has deeper thoughts than me if she could put words to them.” Bill looked as proud as Esmeralda, and the both of them giggled. 

His plan was to take a shower and a nap before his evening date, so he said goodbye to the girls by the stairs with a hug each. He had a better view of them and could see both sides he liked and disliked in them. Some of them made his cheeks glow pink. It was just one of them who took the liberty to give him a kiss on the cheek: Camila. Bill gave her a smile when she wiped her lipstick away from his cheek, but he actually felt less for her now. She wasn't the only interesting girl there, and he actually wanted to get to know them all. Camila was interesting and sexy, but the other women had other qualities he also liked. 

××× 

The orangery:

Bill: Odette is really interesting. She's that kind of woman you travel the world with, and I love the thought of that. Just do whatever we want. 

Odette: I think Bill just gets better and better. He doesn't feel shallow at all and seems to appreciate the real things in life. 

Esmeralda: I got too little time with him! I want to be closer to him, just me and him! It's frustrating to wait. 

××× 

The bed was too soft and his head too heavy, but he still needed to go on a date. Even if it was with a woman he looked forward to getting to know, he dreaded it. Two dates in one day was too much, but this was the concept. He should date intensely until he had fooled his brain into thinking he was in love with all of the women at the same time. 

Herman had told him he and Rose would go to her favorite restaurant, a quite simple Italian restaurant where he could eat a good pasta and share a bottle of red. He looked forward to that; he could use a calming glass of wine that would make him soft in his joints, but... 

“Oh, I don't drink.” 

Rose shrugged her shoulders. Bill looked at her with big eyes. He didn't care about other people's drinking habits, but right then and there he would have liked alcohol to calm down, but now he wondered if he could show his normal drinking habits to her. He couldn't deny he liked his liquor. 

“Can we share an alcoholic-free bottle?” Rose looked at the alcoholic-free part of the drink list, but Bill stayed on the red wine list. Would he eat a bolognese without red wine? 

“It's good for you; I know you work out a lot. You get better results without alcohol.” 

Bill smiled, strained. He did workout a lot but giving up everything good in life to have defined abs he would never do. Plus, he could have both if he just ate and drank in moderation. 

“I think I'll take a glass of barbera.” 

“What's that?” Rose looked through the alcoholic-free menu like it was a soda. 

“Red wine.” Bill pretended to be looking after the waiter but felt embarrassed for some reason. He felt like his alcohol consumption was something to be ashamed about. 

“Oh, okay. I thought we would share a bottle?” Bill dragged a hand over his jaw. He would sound like an alcoholic to her young, naive ears. 

“I really just want a glass of wine. The food gets much better with a great wine.” 

Rose nodded a little but lowered her eyes. Bill couldn't read her face, but he still felt ashamed for taking the glass, but he didn't want to give in and drink alcohol free wine because he would never do that otherwise. Even if his brother and mother lived a sober life, his social life often had alcohol in it. 

They ordered their food and had a relaxed talk about their lives and interests. It was nice; she was beautiful in her thin floral dress, sweet in her way by asking him things, but it was obvious she was younger than him. He also had become a father really early in his life, and it had shaped him into the man he was. 

“So you want to have your own business then?” He asked and took a sip of his wine. 

“Yeah, I hope to succeed with that before I am twenty-five or something, then work hard for it to become like a thing in Hollywood.” She smiled dreamingly, and Bill smiled seeing her like that, even if he had an important question that he must ask. 

“What about family?”

“Yeah, of course I want that too, but when I have the time.” 

Bill nodded a little. It was obvious she hadn't thought much about how their life would look if they were a couple. She would have kids to care about, even if she wasn't ready, because they came as a bonus with him. His daughters were eleven and five years old and were the most important people in his life. He also wanted more kids. He was 34, and who knows how long he needed to wait on her to feel ready. 

Bill swallowed his feelings down and took her hand on the way home in the limousine. She looked at him with stars in her eyes, and he smiled back at her, even if his emotions for her were really mixed. She was so sweet, but their values were so different from each other. 

××× 

The Orangery: 

Rose: He's such a good listener, and I think my mom would love him. He's just really humble and calm. 

Bill: It was good, a good date, but she's young! Yeah, I'm maybe a bit too old for her. 

××× 

The next day the idea was for them to have a long champagne brunch, and then the letter would come and drop “the bomb." The bomb everyone knew would come—he must pick a girl to leave his home. It was expected, and Bill had thought about his choice the whole night. There were actually several he could see leaving, but it was just one who would leave. The question was who he could see himself spending more time with. 

When he came down to the big kitchen where the caterers presented the food, he felt overwhelmed by how many girls there were again, and he actually thought it would be a bit nice to have one less. He couldn't give them all attention when they were all gathered and he felt torn and insufficient. 

Something was off though, and he looked around at the girls in confusion. Several of them tried to hide irritation, and he scratched his elbow uncomfortably. He wondered if he had done something wrong. 

He paused by the dinner table, but luckily he quickly got an answer from Odette, who came up to him. 

“Julie and Esmeralda have been in a fight. I think it was about Julie thinking Esmeralda is copying her?” 

Bill gave her a confused look; he didn't get what she meant. 

“In clothes and style and so on. They share a room, and Esmeralda was out shopping for some new clothes after we came back from the hike, and Julie thought she had bought clothes similar to hers…”

Bill dragged his hand over his jaw, covering a smirk. Girl fights could be quite silly. 

“Then I think it escalated quite a lot, so the production went in and stopped it.” 

Bill looked towards Esmeralda, who popped grapes in her mouth in an irritated way. Julie couldn't see at all. 

“I think I should...” He pointed towards Esmeralda, and Odette nodded in understanding. 

He almost got nervous walking up to Esmeralda, who looked so irritated he wondered if she would be mad that he bothered her. 

“Hey, can I sit down here?” He pointed to the chair next to her. Esmeralda looked up at him, fixed her face fast, and smiled at him. 

“Of course, Bill.” 

He sat down, leaning his arms against the table, and looked at her with big eyes. 

“What's going on?” 

“She's a Trump supporter!” She said fast and gave him a pointed look. Bill looked out over the room. It wasn't such a silly fight as he thought. 

“She's a racist, stupid, fuck! And says as stupid things just like him! I can't stand it, and I'm not the type of person that allows people say such shit!” 

Bill nodded in understanding. He was not a confrontational person, but he admired her for standing up for her beliefs. 

“I get you,” he said and nodded. “Sometimes you will get mad at people who don't know better.” Esmeralda looked at him thankfully and took a calming breath. 

“I shouldn't get so mad, but it's a loaded topic for me.” Bill nodded again and carefully took her hand that lay on her thigh. There weren’t many who saw him take her hand, but some did. Esmeralda hugged his big hand in hers and dragged her other hand’s finger tips over the back of it. She seemed to calm down, so Bill sat with her for a while. It was probably obvious who's side he had taken. 

Herman looked at him and then made a head movement to make him understand they needed to talk. Bill excused himself and then walked to Herman, who led him to Bill's office again. 

“What's going on?” Bill asked with furrowed brows. 

“Everything Esmeralda is saying is true.” 

“Then Julie leaves today.” Bill was determined; he knew his believers and also knew he couldn't be with someone with such different opinions than him. 

“You can't.” 

“Of course I can!” he said, upset, once again that he couldn't make his own choices. 

“No, we are not allowed to talk about politics.” 

Bill started to walk around the room with his hands on his hips. Even if his cuban collared shirt sat loose on his body, it felt hot and sticky. He hated that he had these rules. 

“But we have other footage...” said Herman carefully. Bill looked up at him. It maybe wasn't a big deal for others, but Herman knew Bill would react to Julie's comment about the portrait; that was also why it was hard to tell him about it. 

“She commented on the portrait in the stairs. She thought you would have taken it down.” 

“Of Kate?” Bill sat down in the computer chair.

“Yes. She called her ‘your ex’.” 

Bill scoffed and shook his head. Kate would never be his ex and a girl who couldn't understand that was the wrong girl. 

“Would it be okay if we had that in the show? In that case, we can make it seem like that's the reason you let her leave.” 

Bill looked a while at Herman. His plan was to leave Kate out as much as possible, but he also knew what her beliefs and values had been. If he were religious, he would have believed it was what she wanted. 

“It's okay. Yeah, do what you have to do.” 

××× 

The production had tried to play down everything that was happening, and Bill was given the instruction to act like nothing happened as well. He did his best even if he wondered what the rest of the plan was to get Julie out of the house. 

Maybe it was drastic, judging her for her political view, but he had two daughters and didn't want any such opinions to come close to their ears. He also had friends of many different ethnicities and wouldn't be able to look them in the eyes if he had a girlfriend saying things like Trump would. It may have been drastic, but for him, it was the only right thing.  

He talked lightly with Violet about the food when Esmeralda came up to him. 

“Can I talk to you?” 

He looked at her while swallowing the chicken that was a little bit too dry. 

“Sure.” They went out to the porch, and Bill leaned against the railing while Esmeralda hugged the pillar. 

“Something happened this morning, and... I thought you had the right to know.” Bill nodded with big eyes. He understood he would pretend to not know anything. 

“Me and Julie got in, sort of, a fight this morning about all kinds of things and like... She has some weird opinions; we have discussed things before, and... She said some things about your late wife.” 

Bill just stood and looked at her. Esmeralda's acting was okay, but he was great. He looked down at the ground and scratched his jaw uncomfortably. 

“I'm sorry for telling you that, but it's just weird and disrespectful that she talks about her like that.” 

Bill knew the team wanted it to sound like she had spoken about Kate even when the cameras were off, like that was what the fight that morning was about. 

“Thank you for telling me… Kate will always be a part of my life, you know.” 

Esmeralda gave him a warm smile. 

“Of course. I don't think any of us believed any different. And that's beautiful, anything else would be weird.” 

Bill smiled; even if they had been acting, the conversation was now completely real, and he got a bit emotional with Esmeralda's words, so he spread out his arms towards her. She happily pressed her cheek to his collarbone and let his long arms embrace her. Esmeralda looked up at him, and for a moment it felt like they would kiss, but she settled by giving him a kiss on the cheek that landed on the corner of his mouth. Esmeralda giggled when he smiled so big his dimple deepened. 

“We should hang out more,” said Bill lowly, believing the camera couldn't hear him, but they heard it all. 

 ××× 

The TV team had collected all the keys the girls had gotten, and now he would be giving them out again, but one less. It felt good knowing Julie would disappear. One less problem. The keys were laid on a red velvet cushion on a waist-high pillar. All of them were just as shiny as they had been when he first gave them out, but he wondered what they had done with them. Had they just been lying on a table or had some of them sucked on it or something? He didn't know. 

The girls stood in a half circle around him as the last time and looked at him expectantly. He took a deep breath before saying the first name. 

Esmeralda. 

Several of the girls looked surprised, and two of them were even upset. Esmeralda smiled big and walked up to him, throwing with her long hair. 

Odette. 

Camila.

Violet. 

Maria. 

Brigitte. 

Tiffany.

Sandra.

Rose. 

Sienna.

Victoria. 

It was painfully silent when all the girls except Julie had gotten their keys. Bill stood with his hands clasped in front of him and gave her an apologetic smile. She looked like she didn't understand a thing and then made a scoff. 

“Okay…” she said with some attitude and walked up to Bill on her stilettos. 

“Esmeralda is your favorite, and I must leave?” 

“I'm sorry… Should we go out and talk?” He said and did a motion to the porch. Julie scoffed again but walked towards the porch. Bill gave the other girls a quick look but also Herman behind a camera, then he walked out to Julie with a deep sigh. She was beautiful with her brown hair with highlights and super tight turquoise dress, but he had never been so shallow that a girl with awful opinions would get a chance just because she's pretty. 

“Wow, it was nice to get sooo much time with you!” She said, bitterly with crossed arms.

“I heard that you had talked about Kate.” 

“Hm? Who the fuck is Kate?” 

“My girls’ mother.” He talked a bit too harshly, but at that moment he spoke on behalf of his girls and became more upset than he would be otherwise. 

“Oh. I haven't said anything about her.” She furrowed her brows and shrugged her shoulders. 

“I know you have. Esmeralda told me.” 

The viewer would believe that there were other instances than the time by the stairs, while Julie just thought about that time. 

“Oh. It was nothing! I just meant you maybe should remove her from your life, a bit.” 

Bill gave her a pointed look.

“It's my daughter's mom, and if you don't understand how important it is that they remember her, we will never work.” He took a deep breath while Julie looked at him, upset but now with regret. After a few seconds of staring came a man from the team up to them. 

“Your bags are in the car, miss.” 

××× 

The Orangery:

Bill: I hope the other girls understand it's really different being a widower than a divorced father. Of course I want them to feel comfortable, but not at the expense of my girls. 

Esmeralda: I will sound like a bitch! Oh my god, I will sound like a bitch, but it's nice Julie has left. She was the bitch!

Tiffany: I think it's my turn to see Bill now! God, the other girls just seize him! Bill, it's my turn now! 

× 

[littlemissjellyfish1]

HEAVILY inspired by @meowbyacow60004 comic! Hope you don't mind my little rendition! (Lmk if you'd like me to take it down!)

The sound of heavy automaton footprints across the Parisian streets echoed against the buildings. Adrien continued towards Marinette's house, unwavering and never tiring. Asleep upon Adrien's cold, metal back; Marinette listened to the soft whirring of mechanical parts as she dreamt. Marinette jolted awake when an old lamp post flickered above her.

Noticing the change in her breathing, Adrien turned his head to look at her. "Oh, you're awake?"

Marinette rubbed her eyes and scanned the area as she spoke up. "Any reason for carrying me on your back?" She questioned.

"A few, princess," His calm and calculating voice answered. "It's midnight, no traffic, and I certainly can't let you go home alone."

Groaning, Marinette sunk her face into the nape of his neck. "You know what I meant, Adrien."

"Actually I don't, I'm just a machine," He feigned ignorance, walking along.

"Are you being satirical?"

"I wasn't designed to do this."

"So you are, then?"

"...Just a little. Maybe." Adrien smiled, a smile designed down to the last dimple on his cheek; that's what made it so uncanny and beautiful.

Letting out an exhausted sigh, Marinette felt the edges of her mouth curl up. "Good, it's like the old days."

Adrien cautiously walked across the old and fractured pavement as they inched closer to Marinette's house. "Are you being satirical, too?" He asked, breathlessly---inhuman.

Marinette shook her head into the fabric of his shirt. "Nope, I mean it." Marinette let the cool air surround her as she began to reminiscence. "I've been thinking these days...a lot." She paused, still for a moment before gripping the steel of Adrien's shoulder. "I'm sorry for avoiding you for so long."

It was funny: apologizing to a mechanical boy. Yet the ticking of his clockwork heart held enough emotion to burden Marinette with guilt, so she carried on. "I'm sorry I said those words to you. That wasn't your fault." Her grip tightened as tears welled up in her eyes. "I was the one who fell for you easily."

A short stop in the ticking, almost as if Adrien had paused his breath. Marinette spoke softly through her tears, "Your kindness...your little presents." She rubbed her eyes on his shirt, wrinkling and wetting it. "Your silly jokes, the murmur of gears in your body when I get close to you...everything..."

Not fully comprehending in the situation, Adrien began to set Marinette down. "Mari, we're here."

She let out a small "oh" and wiped the tears from her face. "Sorry...for ruining your shirt." Marinette let her hand linger over the wet spots on his back.

Cocking his head, Adrien smiled brightly. "Then what's my compensation?"

Marinette raised an eyebrow, face puffy. "Is this also a setting in advance?"

A small laugh escaped Adrien's mouth. "I guess not."

Pondering for a moment Marinette raised a question. "Okay---what do you want?"

"If it won't make you uncomfortable...how about an innocent kiss?" Adrien teased, causing Marinette to pout. "Just kidding! You don't have to; anything from you is fine!" He reassured her, waving his hands. "Even a smile can make me forgive-"

Adrien had tried to retract his statement, but he already felt small, calloused hands on his cheeks. It was a light kiss, just enough to make the pair ache for more, and yet still satisfy them for a time. Streetlights illuminated the scene like spotlights on a stage. Adrien felt a shiver run through every servo and circuit. For a moment--just a moment--Marinette swore his lips held warmth.

[thebunnednun]

LA!Buggy the Clown x Fem!Reader Enchanted meeting Part 2

Clown fuckers of the world unite!

Part 1

Chapter 2 my loves! I forgot to mention this in my last post but please comment your thoughts! I want to see what you all found humorous and what you’d like to see more of. If there are any tags I missed feel free to comment on them! :3 <3 Btw, the reader almost kisses the clown. ON WITH THE SHOW! 

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

“I can’t fucking believe you convinced us to do this.”

Zoro was being a drama mama in the corner of the massive tent you built. Who knew that a 120-berry tent would come in handy? After a little bit of sweet talking you managed to convince some of the entertainers to sell you a tent the Russian circus could be proud of.

Everyone was able to fit inside and even used the piles of salvageable goods for makeshift walls. Zoro had gotten ready in a black fitted vest and some casual grey slacks. You were applying some smoky black eyeliner and purple eye shadow with a light hand. “Sanji finally got Usopp to stop crying. I don’t think it’s healthy for him to be here right now. I mean he finally put down that piece of wood.” This ship was more than a vessel, it was your home. Where Sanji cooked meals, and everyone took their place beside each other. 

“Yeah, well, it would boost morale. Let’s try to put on a brave face for the others tonight." Your offer of reason just made him sigh, "Fine. But then back to reality." You roll your eyes and shoot him a smile. You knew Zoro was just being a butthead. Exiting your “room” together allowed you to bump into Robin and Chopper. “Looking cuter than usual, papa.” Chopper basked in the compliments and gave you a twirl. He found a big red bowtie and some matching blue shorts.

Robin was wearing a royal blue jacket that resembled a ringmaster's coat. She offered a warm but tired smile. “Where’s Usopp?” “Right here my sweets!~” Sanji emerged with a red-eyed Pinocchio. Sanji was dressed in simple black and blue attire while Usopp managed to find something of a forest green. You yourself decided on a vampy look. A black dress with red mesh for sleeves and a pair of deep red chunky heels. Who gives a shit about practically when you look sexy? 

Luffy emerged scratching his rear with Nami swatting his hand away. He was in his usual chances but was convinced to put on a normal T-shirt with a star design. Nami looked like a magician's assistant with a similar smoky black vest and plum skirt combo that complimented her figure nicely. Brooks looked as though he was auditioning for the part of a lion with how voluminous his fro was looking. 

You nodded at each other and he spoke, “I’d say we clean up rather nicely for having just been shipwrecked.” It was good to see him returning to his elegant self. “Of course, we can’t just parade around as is. So.. I brought masks!” You gleamed while holding up a shopping bag. A mix of groans and snickering.

Everyone took a mask that hid their face completely or partly. To be fair, it would be easy to spot the Straw Hat crew even without the literal skeleton following around. Seeing the sun begin to dip you all decided to get going before night. On the way everyone soon fell into pleasant conversation while following you and Zoro. 

“Okay, first we eat! Then, we can play games.” Luffy cheered while running to the outdoor food court. Zoro (finally smiling) rolled his eyes and chuckled,” I’ll go with him and make sure he doesn’t eat the stall itself.” Robin took Chopper to the bounce house while Sanji’s interest was captured by a woman in a red leotard. Usopp was looking around some of the merchant stalls and you were happy to trail behind Brooks as he began to try his bones at ring toss. 

The night was a serene affair with warm, salty air, and a gentle breeze that stirred the surrounding foliage. Sitting on a bench overlooking the vast expanse of the ocean, you felt a sense of happiness and contentment. As you looked around, you noticed that the darkness of the area was a bit creepy, but the beauty of the surroundings made up for it. Your friends had survived a shipwreck and were now enjoying the town's festival, but you had no idea what it was about.

Looking over the crowd, you saw many people, including children, wearing masks of all shapes and sizes. As the newest member of the group, you didn't even have a wanted poster yet. Since you always hid your face, there was no point in wearing a mask, right? 

Just as you were about to remove your sweaty mask, you heard deep chuckling, sounds of thunder, and children screaming. The mixture of sounds was strange and unnerving, and you felt a sense of curiosity rising within you. Turning away from the ocean, you followed the sounds and found yourself making your way towards the fun house.

Children began to pour through the back doors of the fun house as you did your best not to bump into anyone. Coincidentally, Brooks and Usopp had the same idea. “AHH Y/N DON’T DO THAT!” Usopp shrieked, jumping into Brooks' bony arms and immediately falling. The surrounding children found this amusing. “It’s not MY fault if you’re so jumpy.” You dusted off your heels and looked around. Things seem to be calmer now but something about the house seemed…. Off.

Brooks seemed to sense your discomfort. “Maybe the lady would prefer if we left this area? We could still catch up to the captain and grab some tea before the show.” You shook your head, ”Nah, I’ll be okay. Let’s go in together though. There’s something strange about this house.” 

Taking one last look at the outside the three of you stumble into the “fun” house. ‘Fun house my ass,’ you thought while trying to regain your footing. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness you realized it was indeed an old house. However, it was decorated more to the liking of some 1860s vampires. There was the faint smell of mothballs.

“This looks more like a horror house,” Usopp quipped and began touching the walls. Brooks was silent looking at a skeletal dummy in the corner. You placed a hand on his scapula,” Yeah buddy, try not to think about it too much.” Slowly you all made your way into a corridor that split into different hallways. “Do we split or stay together?” You wondered out loud. 

“Ya don’t get a choice, sweetheart.” A gruff voice answered. 

Suddenly the floor gave out from under your doormat, “Y/N!!” the unusual duo screamed with hands outstretched. You slide under the floor, barely missing their fingertips. A metal slide was delivering you somewhere but there could only be a basement under the house, right? Seeing a neon light at the end of the circular tunnel you stopped yourself before falling out completely. You placed a hand out to feel some surface before slipping and dropping onto a concrete floor.

“Fuck,” this was harder than the sandy landing you were blessed with earlier. After regaining your breathing and sitting up your eye finally adjusted and noticed that the neon light was actually multiple lights. Surrounding you was a maze of silly mirrors that distorted your image completely. “No wonder those kids got out. But NOOO I just had to bring Scooby and the gang in here!” You rubbed your sore ass before dusting off. Thankfully, your heels weren’t broken and you didn’t feel any bumps on your head. 

But, getting outta this one was going to take some skill. You notice that the wood surface you felt was another trapdoor that spits you out. However, it was already closed, and no telling when it would open again. Your only option would be to try the maze and do your best. Sighing you pulled out a little tube of red lipstick from your cleavage. Better to Hansel and Gretel your way out than be lost the whole night. That was if you made it out at all. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. The staff has to do a sweep and my friends wouldn’t leave without me anyway.’

The thoughts you offered yourself held comfort. But you’d be lying if you didn’t feel scared. Particularly, it felt as if someone was watching you. Looking around the room and doing a little head shake you strolled up to one of the mirrors and fixed yourself before uncapping the deep red lipstick and touching up your lips.

However, your gaze wandered and you could see something watching you from behind another mirror. “Ah!” you turned around suddenly with your back against the cold glass. Nothing, of course, was there. Simply a figure of your imagination. 

But, you knew something was there. And you began to mark each mirror with an angry red slash. Looking over your shoulder gave you little security. 

Wait….

Great, now you were hearing things. Because you could’ve sworn you heard a faint,” Yo ho,” and the sound of men's boots following you. “I need to get the fuck outta here.” Step, step, step, step, silence. What was the voice you heard before you fell? It was too deep to be Usopp but also not mature enough to be Brooks. Maybe someone over a monitor was watching you guys? Finally, with mercy, you reached a door that led to a staircase. Taking small quiet steps you held your breath and felt relief when you heard no sounds behind you. 

Just as you were about to reach the door it was flung open and strong cold hands grabbed you. “Y/N!!!” You felt a familiar long nose and afro in your face crushing you into a tight hug. Your sweet goofballs have found you! Returning the hug with much vigor you breathed a sigh of relief. “Now don’t you ever disappear through the floor again!” Brooks scolded, waving his arms widely. You let out a soft giggle and he couldn’t help but let the anger melt away. “I can’t promise anything. But what happened to you guys?” Usopp began to spin a wild tale about fighting off monsters and being the one to locate you. “There is Pinocchio ass goes again,” mumbled Brooks rolling his sockets. You could see why those kids were scared. But something deep down inside told you that it wasn’t because of the mirrors. “Let’s get outta here already. I’m sure the others are looking for us.” 

The trio made their way to the food court where Luffy was arguing the advertised size of a Jumbo Philly cheesesteak hotdog with an embarrassed Nami and Zoro patting his stomach. Robin was enjoying some warm tea in a travel mug and Chopper had gotten you a big soft pretzel. “Nice job papas,” you mused and rubbed his head affectionately. Sanji strolled up (having just been banned from the kissing booth) and handed Nami a cake plushie. “Something sweet for someone sweet~” She rolled her eyes but accepted the plush peace offering. You tried to shake off the past events but could see Brooks whispering to Luffy and Zoro. 

They looked at each other and continued to talk in hushed whispers. 

Looking around you realized the booths seemed to be… Deserted. There was no life in them anymore. “I think it’s time for the show. Let’s get going.” Zoro took the lead and everyone gathered their goods. He bumped his hip with yours slightly and you looked up from your pretzel. The green bean haired male raised a single eyebrow at you and you shrugged looking ahead. It’s not like you actually got trapped down there. It was just.. nothing. “It was nothing,” your explanation is accepted, for now, as the Green giant hummed in response. You decided to hang back a little and joined hands with Robin and Nami. Chopper got to ride on Usopp's shoulders for the sake of time. 

Arriving at the big top you all paid 4 bounty a ticket. It was a little dark when you first stepped in. Looking around you decided to take hold of Zoro's arm for a little help walking. Luffy whipped out a wad of cotton candy and you traded half your pretzel for it. A hum of excited children and families surrounded you all as everyone took their seats in the middle of the stands. 

Suddenly, the spotlight came on and a huge puff of smoke developed inside the ring. Whipping your eyes, you found yourself staring at all the performers. You even saw the lion from earlier! Searching for the man that gave you the flier your eyes tried capturing everyone from the sea of entertainers. Acrobats, jugglers, contortionists, and… a single clown?

His eyes were closed but he stood in the center of all the chaos. Around you, children and parents lost their minds cheering, clapping, and waving to all the performers. 

Finally, the clown opened his eyes. He wore a ringmaster's coat, nothing like Robins, and sported a blood-orange pirate hat. Two blue ‘ribbons’ (you guessed) hung from either side of his hat. The boots he wore didn’t look like performance shoes either. And the makeup he wore didn’t look like a typical clown. He had painted his mouth into a permanent blood-red smile. And then you noticed his nose. It looked as though he tapped a rather large orange to his face.

Wait. Did you just see the nostrils twitch as he breathed?

“Huh, that’s pretty strange-” “BINKY?!” Luffy shouted prompting Nami to immediately slap her hand over his loud mouth. “SHHHH!” she hissed into his ear. But she herself looked slightly worried.

The clown man immediately seemed to shift his focus on the group ahead of him. Zoro was now sitting tensely and at attention. “Psst, whose Binky?” you whispered. “Tell you later. Right now, we all need to leave this circus.” Your brow furrowed. Leave? Over a pirate clown?

“There’s no way we could get up without him seeing us,” said Usopp, putting a hand on your shoulder. You could tell his energy was off. “I knew I remembered that voice from somewhere.” Luffy’s smile deepened into a frown. Everyone was acting so fucking weird. You were about to voice your concerns when a familiar voice cut you off-

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, children of all ages, thank you, truly. It will be my personal pleasure to entertain you all this evening.~”

The clown had now stepped closer to your group. Zoro tugged your sleave but you couldn't help take your eyes off the flashy clown before you.

“Oh…”

You caught yourself about to speak but quickly bit your lips together. Not to be dramatic, but his eyes were a really fucking pretty shade of green. The blue tones around his eyes complimented them so well. You didn’t hear much of what he said, only noticing when he waved his hands at the other performers who either disappeared or got into place. 

Zoro couldn’t help but spare you a glance. “Y/n, are you seriously checking out the clown?!” He grunted through closed teeth. Quickly, you shook your head no and looked around that stadium. Luffy was still frowning. Nami was holding onto his arm and you could see Robin pull Chopper into her lap with Sanji putting a protective face on. “Damn, clown,” was all you heard from the seats next to you.

Placing your hand over Usopps, you try to offer him some comfort by running your thumb over his hand. The first act was a simple trapeze act with the performers mixing it up at the end by juggling and riding a unicycle out. Then there was the lion and sheep man but the routine wasn’t comedic. However, you couldn’t stop sweeping over the crowd looking for that green-eyed clown. 

And from the looks of things he had no problem finding you.

“Mmm,” you let go of your ruby lips to see him transfixed on your face, head tilted. Almost like he was studying you. You quickly looked away from the act and touched your cheek. Wait, Fuck. You must have dropped your mask in the funhouse when you fell. Looking out the corner of your side, you could still see him staring at you curiously. You decided to close your eyes and try to land back on earth.

‘Everything is going to be okay. I’m safe right here and Zoro will tell me what happened when we get back to the ship.’ The reasoning was stopped when you heard loud screams.

“OH MY GOD!”

A mother (presumably) had cried out along with many other children.

Opening your eyes, you saw the clown's body standing perfectly still as the lion’s face made a puffy expression.

“HE ATE HIS HEAD! HE ATE HIS HEAD!”

Regrettably, you couldn’t stop the, “Oh Shit!” that came out of your mouth causing you to gain a few harsh glares from the parents around. Unconsciously rising to your feet, you leaned in closer to see the damage done. “Where’s his blood?” A few children began to cry a disembodied voice could be heard from the lion.

The sheepman ran over, opened the lion's jaws, and the clown's body walked over and plopped his head back on like nothing happened. The stands fell silent once more before more cheering and screams EXPLODED from the people around you.

“Y/n sit down.”

Oops, forgot you were still standing.

The clown seemed to be drinking in all the attention and flashed an admittedly sexy smile. He raised his arms over his head and a hush fell over the people. “Thank you all for your attention. Now for this next act, I need a volunteer please.” If you weren’t interested before you sure were now, even if you didn’t raise your hand. Zoro, clearly annoyed began to tug at your hand, “Y/n sit-”

“Would the young lady with the cherry red lips please step forward?”

You were blinded once more by the other spotlight as you held your hands up to protect your vision. The light dimmed a bit and you could see everyone, staring at you expectantly, excluding your crew mates.

They were busy staring at the clown in front of you with an outstretched hand. Taking his cue, he shot you a wink and urged you forward. If only your feet would cooperate.

“Don’t be shy now. I don’t bite~” he teased while flashing his teeth. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t do something for you. Not to mention there was this little heartbeat down there that started-

“Aww, maybe she’s shy. Everyone! Let’s give this young lady a round of applause!”

He raised his arms once again and began to clap along with everyone. A single gloved hand shot out towards you urging you to take its hold. Softly pressing your smaller hand into it you were then gently tugged forward towards the ring. 

However, you couldn’t feel your legs and as you stepped forward your heels betrayed you again, leading you to tumble down the stands into the arms of the clown before you with your lips-”

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

And that wraps up chapter two, my loves!!

Part 3 Here!

Please remember to follow and like! Also don't be shy in the comment section! Requests are also open. See you all soon! <3

[misscinnamonroll16]

brozone and the bunker part 1

im sorry but i have to break this up into more than one part bc tumblr only allows 30 images on a post. so i tried my best to get good screenshots of everything and ill tell you a little about my thought process 😁i tried to make all of them good looking bc they were pop sensations so theyre are still gonna be good looking (aged like a fine wine) bc majority of celebs do

so first up, as the oldest, is john dory. i tried to recreate his jacket but there were no vests like that, theres no option for glasses/goggles on the head so theyre on his face. i also tried to do the fingerless gloves but again no option :(

you got the close up of his face with and without goggles. i picture him as kinda scruffy. you cant tell bc of the clothes but hes fit and toned. he has body hair, arms legs and chest. i also gave him a little tattoo. i didnt have many colors to work with for hair so i felt the green fit him the best.

next is bruce. same as john, didnt have many colors to work with for hair but it works. like john he has facial hair and body hair, especially chest hair. i choose a tied back style bc 1 there was no hair as big and beautiful as his hair and 2 he works in food as his hair is supposed to be tied back. i gave him his dad bod but still kind of toned? hes still strong. i went through every outfit and added his wedding ring

onto the middle child, clay. i tried to do the wild hair but none of the styles suited him. i headcanon that clay often ties his hair back when hes working so i choose that style. i didnt see any shirt choices with the pattern he wears but i did kind of incorporate with his pants. clay and floyd both lean towards thinner body types so thats what i did. idk if itll show up once i post this but i wanted clay to still have some of that 'fun boy' charm so i gave him freckles bc whats more boyish than freckles

time for the sensitive one, now bc i didnt think anyone would want to see these, i did use cc for some of them. i remember floyd for sure. i couldnt do one earring like i wanted so he has two. i tried to give him more piercing but they didnt work. i gave him heavy eye makeup and a beauty mark. it just seemed to fit in my opinion. i leaned into soft boy image, the 2000s emos, and the fact that his body was probably not the same after dying. so he looks soft and cozy and comfy.

on to the baby, bitty b, baby branch. i leaned into the greens in his canon outfit. i wanted him be wearing woodsy, hand made, patched up looking clothes. again did my best with the hair. hes got a sturdy build like john but hes slimmer than john. i wish i would have put some kind of scar on his face, that fits him.

for the actual bunker i tried to base it off branch's drawing and what we see in the canon of the movies and show. i was mainly trying to set it up like the drawing. there are on elevators in the sims so i just made a basic room to act as an entry way or foyer with a staircase. i feel like branch would have a bunch of clutter and junk. so when his brothers "moved in" hed have to move stuff around and i imagine that hed have some of their grandmas stuff and some of his brothers old stuff. i also wanted to incorporate the fact that he probably started building this when he was still really young so some design choices were made by a little kid

@djmurphy @aerodominics @cow-boy000 @lululemongurl @sharks-n-bones

[bountydroid]

Safe With You

Professor Aesop Sharp x reader

Description: Y/n is the designated Hosgmeade delivery girl. Desperate to stay in the area after graduating from Hogwarts, she traveled the countryside to make things easier for the shop owners. With Ashwinders becoming bold, Y/n's job becomes more dangerous. There is one person that always makes her feel safe, her former potions professor.

Notes:

Part 1

Part 3

(h/c) = hair color

"Y/n honey, it isn't safe out there anymore. Perhaps you need to find another job." Y/n's mother says, peeking over her morning paper.

Y/n is quite a sight to behold in the mornings. Her (h/c) hair is a tangled mess, her sleep shirt is all ruffled, and her mouth is stuffed with pastries. "Don't worry, mum. I'll be fine." She mumbles, continuing to eat her breakfast. "If I have any trouble, I'll retreat to Hogwarts. They never go on the grounds."

Once finished with her morning chores, Y/n gathers her things for another long trip of deliveries. Boots? Check. Bag? Check. Food? Check. Water pouch? Check. "When I am done I should stop by Sirona's for some butterbeer." she thinks to herself.

One thing about Y/n is that she is afraid of heights. It's embarrassing to admit, really. A witch who won't fly? She always uses the excuse that she can't afford a good broom or she's afraid of dropping the merchandise, but really it's just heights. So she walks.

Walking through the highlands has become a habit by now. Hitting all the regular stops on her way. It often takes multiple days to deliver everything. "One more stop." Y/n thinks to herself as he enters Feldcroft. It's a cute little village, but lately Ranrok and his lot have made it a dangerous place to be.

Her mind wanders to thoughts of Hogwarts, specifically, her old potions professor. Not too long ago, she had asked him out for drinks. While the drinks were lovely, it felt like two friends catching up. She craved more. "Maybe he didn't understand what I meant when I asked him out? Or maybe he did and isn't interested." Y/n's mind raced as she approached the small shop.

"Hello! I have an order of mandrake seeds from The Magic Neep? As well as some Wiggenweld potions?" Y/n says politely to the shop owner.

"Yes dear thank you so much!" The shop owner says as he smiles. "Thank you for making the trip down here. Here is a tip."

-

The trip back was just as uneventful as the trip out, or so she thought. But she was stopped along the road as she closed in on Hogwarts.

"Hey there, pretty girl." A man said from behind a mask. The sneer evident in his voice. Y/n took a step back in fear. She reached for her wand in her boots "Oh no sweetheart, I wouldn't suggest that." Another voice says from behind her.

"What do you want." Y/n squeaks out as she shakes in fear.

"Your money, all of it. I know you are that delivery girl. I know you have money." The man before her says with his wand pointed at her face.

Before she can react, the man behind her grabs her bag off her back. Y/n screamed in surprise as she heard her bag straps ripping. The tears start streaming down Y/n's face as she froze in place. The men talked to each other as they walked away with all her possessions. However, she could not hear them over the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears.

Once she was sure they were gone, she broke out into a run. The only thing she could think of was Professor Sharp. She needed to find him, to feel safe next to the ex-auror. Y/n weaved her way through the halls, careful not to bump into any students. She was sure she was getting weird looks from them, but she didn't care.

"Suprise!" Peeves yelled as he burst up through the floor. This was the last straw. Y/n began to sob as she fell to her knees in the middle of the hallway.

"Away with you, Peeves!" She heard a voice say. Y/n registered who the owner of the voice was when he put his hand on her shoulder. "Y/n are you alright?" Aesop Sharp says quietly, trying not to upset her further. "Will you come to my office?"

Y/n nods her head, incapable of forming words. She unsteadily gets back on her feet and starts shuffling towards the potions classroom, her grip tight on Aesop's sleeve.

Once they reach his office, he urges her to sit. "Thank you." She whispered shakily. "I am sorry."

"No need to be sorry, my dear." He reassures her.

"I just didn't know where else to go. I was robbed along the road not far from here." She tries to explain between sobs.

He tries his best to remain calm, but the thought of her being in danger deeply upset him. "Did you see their faces?" He asked.

"No, I am sorry. They were wearing masks." Y/n replied while staring down at her hands and fiddling with her sleeves.

"Stop apologizing Y/n. You've done nothing wrong. I am just glad you are safe now. Thank you for coming to me." He says quietly as he rubs her shoulder.

She met his eyes for the first time in the conversation as she whispered, "I feel safe with you."

This causes the man to break out into a wide grin unlike any she has seen on the otherwise stoic professor. His eyes are full of adoration as he reaches for her hand and squeezes it. "I am so very glad that you feel that way."

Her tears stop flowing as she stares at the man before her. He's showing a level of softness she didn't know he was capable of. If she didn't know any better, she would think he was in love.

If only she knew.

Tag list: @mothgirl-is-tired

[noys-boise]

very interested in hearing more about hungarian rent!!! were there any notable bits you liked about it? id love to see rent performed one day, so jealous!

this is probably gonna be long I'm sorry but I've been wanting to rant (pun not intended) about this since sunday

so first of all i feel like i should mention this isn't the first time there's been a hungarian production of rent. they did a run in 2003, which even got a cast recording, it just simply wasn't? very good? like i wasn't even born yet so i didn't see it but I've listened to the songs and the translations ranged from fine to just straight up atrocious and questionable (such as accidentally implying that Mimi thinks her dad has hot hands and almost completely removing the love part of seasons of love which feels like it would be the entire point??) i think most of the problems stemmed from a random older hungarian guy doing the translations. i doubt that man was qualified for a show like rent in anyway

but flash forward to 2024. the redemption. the miracle. on december 14th and december 15th, they performed rent in hungarian for the first time in over a decade and i happened to be there on the latter of the two performances (important to mention hungarian theatres will not play a show every day, you have to check for specific dates so it's normal that they only performed it twice so far)

I was completely blown away. it felt like it was done by people who fully understand what rent is. I couldn't even tell you one favorite part so I'm just going to praise this show for several paragraphs now.

first of all, my biggest issue with the first attempt at hungarian rent and my biggest issue with most hungarian shows: the translation. i never thought I'd hear a hungarian translation of a musical i love, let alone of RENT of all things, but i swear i don't have a single lyric to complain about. notably, the translator, Cseh Dávid Péter, also played Roger. btw something i loved is a lot of background workers such as the set designer and social media manager and etc were also in the ensemble, but the moment i found out Cseh Dávid Péter translated the entire show, after seeing his performance as Roger REALLY surprised me because by the way he's also a phenomenal actor and an even better singer. My mouth was literally agape during One song glory without exaggaration.

but I don't want to praise just him even though he quickly became one of my favorite actors I'm not going to lie, the entire cast was great. extra shoutout to Ekanem Bálint and Pásztor Ádám for the sheer amount of Collins-Angel chemistry they had because i swear, Collins was doing literal heart eyes anytime he looked at Angel it's SO adorable. I also want to mention that in an extreme white majority country they still managed to find a Black actor to play Collins and he was perfect, so I find that very cool, I never see actors of color in hungarian theatre normally. okay maybe one nitpick i have with the cast, Joanne's actress (can't remember her name rn) didn't quite hit all the high notes which left me a tiny bit underwhelmed but that's maybe because I love Tracie Thoms so much I don't think anyone will live up to her for me.

okay so here's some truly random bits that stuck with me:

Mimi cat coding has always been a big part of rent for me but in this had Maureen dog coding, which i guess there's a bit of in the original at the beginning of act 2 but this translation had more of that. like in tango Maureen, they call her a dog that's salivating for the bone as a metaphor for her promiscuity

I cannot stop thinking of this bit of costume design, after Angel's death, Roger was wearing a shirt that said "I believe in angels"

in contact, the last thing Angel does while dying is reach out for Roger and Mimi's hands and unites them

this isn't really a fun fact within the show itself, more just about it, but Gadó Anita and Cseh Dávid Péter, who played Mimi and Roger, are together in real life, which i think is really cool

when Roger plays his guitar in La vie boheme, instead of saying "that doesn't remind us of Musetta's waltz" Mark says "Puccini is rolling in his grave" which i found funny

i can't really think of more to add right now but yeagh hungarian rent good 👍👍👍 and it's really special that they even could do this show in hungary, given the current political climate around lgbt+ representation in media. they did an amazing job though, none of it felt toned down or censored at all, the lyrics were also as direct as in the original, it felt great

[lethalchiralium]

Hey if you’re taking requests

NSFW (if you’re comfortable with it) & SFW headcons or one shots with ghost about a reader (afab) who wears overexposing clothing. Has a bit of edgy/grunge style that leaves little to the imagination. The prompt could be how ghost feels about the reader’s clothing and how it affects him. The reader has a nice ass too 🫡

Overexposed | Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcanon (18+)

a/n: GRUNGE STYLE??? W A SIDE OF A NICE ASS??? YOUVE WOUNDED ME.

a/n 2: i’m almost done with the next part of no more and we may actually see the second part of you leave me wounded and bleeding? CRAZY. (i am working on my requests, i promise i’m just trying to clean out my writing notes on my phone)

warnings: 18+!! MINORS DNI. Vague descriptions of sexual activity, body worship, simon is a thigh man. and a boob man. and an ass man.

-He spotted you at a bar. A dinky, old bar where uni students come to get pissed. Pretty face with skin showing almost everywhere, he loved the flame designed stockings when his gaze trailed downwards.

-He kept to himself at the bar, casting few glances to your very revealing outfit, and you.

-When you approached him, he was fully expecting you to spit in his face for even glancing at you, but you did the opposite. You sat on the stool next to him and chatted with him for hours, up until the bar kicked you out. (He was too enraptured by you that he forgot to even ask for your number.)

-The next time he saw you, he immediately recognized you by the clunky platform black boots strapped to your feet, fishnets and black skirt leaving barely an inch of imagination since it rode up your fine-looking ass. You were at the bar, leaning onto it as the bartender made you three fingers of whiskey. (It was like you shot him then. He fell in love when he watched you nurse it.)

-It didn’t take him even twenty minutes before you were in his car, pretty little corset ripped to shreds as he plunged into you, mask up on his nose because he needed to make sure you felt his teeth. He needed to make sure that you felt his tongue on your neck, that you felt only his hands on you.

-It didn’t take long for the relationship to establish. He goes fucking batshit crazy the more skin you show, but good Lord, if you’re in that pair of black joggers and oversized Metallica shirt? You’re done. You’re done for the next 48 hours.

-He is the type of man to stare at someone who even gives you any sort of look, whether appreciation for your fashion or disgust, sexual thoughts or confusion - he will stare at them until they walk out the door.

-Will let you dress him up to match you. Granted, it’s still no skin showing that’s not around his eyes - but damn, does he look good next to you. (He says that you show enough skin for the both of you.)

-He genuinely does not care that you like to wear corsets that show off your breasts or mini skirts that show off your ass. (He loves your ass. Uses it as a pillow 99% of the time.) He is the definition of “Wear what you want, I can fight.”

-Wants you to dress up in front of him so he can sit you in front of the floor length mirror and make you watch as he takes it all off. (Sometimes he’ll cut your clothes off with his knife if he knows you’re not attached to the piece. He would never damage any of your favorite clothing, but damn, he’s cut off too many fishnets for you to count and or care.)

-He loves seeing you excited over new band merch or a new belt, lets you talk about all the outfits you want to complete and that you need a new pair of Docs because your old ones got damaged. (He buys you new Docs and does not realize they have to be broken in, feels bad that you get blisters from them.)

-Ghost shops with you. He holds your bags. No, you can’t help him. He’s got it. Quit asking. Yes, you can get that. You will get anything you want, he’ll buy it with no questions in his mind. He wants you happy - and if that means you get a latex skirt that shows a bit of your ass on the bottom, you’re gonna get the best one.

-He has definitely stared down your breasts because of the very low neckline on your shirt. Purposefully gets up close to look down your boobs, or he’ll make sure he sits on the couch while you’re doing something so he can see that perfect ass that he loves.

-If you have tattoos that aren’t covered by your clothing, he will literally have to clench his jaw from going up to you and dragging you to the bathroom of a raggedy bar to fuck you until you see stars. He loves tattoos.

-Agree with me or not, Ghost is not the type of man to go shopping for lingerie with you. He goes out and browses, taking his time before buying a set he really likes and gifting it to you when you get home. As soon as it’s on, he’ll do one of two things. One, he’ll rip it off immediately and have you against the wall, shaking the bones of his home. Two, he’ll sit in that nice chair in your shared bedroom and jack himself off as you admire yourself in the mirror. (You don’t ever leave much to the imagination, but it gets him off knowing that he is the one who gets to see all of you. That he is the one that dressed you in the pretty bodysuit with black spider web print, looking all pretty just for him. He could fuck his fist for hours if you stayed there, hands running up and down your body and eyes staring at him.)

-If you’re wearing one of your shorter skirts, he’ll come up and squeeze your ass. Just for fun.

-Also known to come up and hold your breasts, not even talk to you. The only thing in his head is ‘Boobs.’

-He is a thigh man. I’ll die on this hill. He loves that you show them off, that you’re confident in your fashion and body. He loves that you purposefully put little thigh chains around them - you know that he loves to drag them down with his teeth.

-In conclusion, man is feral for you. Doesn’t matter if you’re almost showing every little bit or covering up completely, he is smitten.

[theerrorofmylife]

Witch Queen Ch.2

Thorin x Witch!Reader 

See Masterlist for complete chapter listing, send me... something, if you’d like to be tagged :) 

  Mwahahahaha, this is quite a lovely chapter and yes, I do get very sappy with Thorin and the MC. I love them both dearly, I can’t help it. I did add a little HTTYD quote in there hehe. I did end up drowning my pride and adding in (Name) instead of (Y/n). Please enjoy – Error

 Warnings: Mentions of death, grief, PTSD, Thorin being an instant simp for the reader, soul-crushing cuteness, Gandalf being a little shit, etc etc 

~

     60 years passed, and in my sorrow, I let the years go without care. I was still young, in my prime as a witch, and would continue to be young for a thousand years more if I so wanted. But, after 60 years, I can still be surprised. 

A knock at my door woke me. It was early, very early, and the dew on the grass had yet to settle. Climbing out of bed, I wrapped my dress around myself and secured my belt to keep everything in place. Waddling to the door, there was knocking again. 

“Alright, alright, my gods- Gandalf?” The old wizard stood at my doorstep, much taller than me, with gray robes and his staff. 

“Hello my dear. How have you been?” For the first time in so long I felt a little sense of peace. Gandalf seemed to carry that with him though. 

“As well as can be expected. It has been 20 years since you last came by. What have you been up to?” He smiled and his eyes crinkled in the corners. 

“Nothing too important. However, recent events have led me to be in need of a fellow magic user.” I invited him in, interested in this need for magic. 

“What have you done this time, friend.” He laughed gently and entered my home, sitting in the old chair near the window, his usual spot. 

“I have done nothing. However, a company of dwarves is massing, 13 in total, and they are to march on Erebor and kill Smaug.” I froze. I had been halfway to making tea and I couldn’t move. 

“They plan to reclaim the mountain.,” my voice shook and broke, my heart breaking just a little bit every moment. Thorin, my prince, they were going to reclaim the mountain. “Why have you come here, Mithrandir?” 

“I am here to ask you to join them, as the 15th member.” 

“15? You said there were 13.”  

“Well, yes, 13 dwarves, and 1 hobbit. They will be meeting in Hobbiton tonight, you will be escorting them across from Hobbiton to the lonely mountain.”

“Ah,” I know it would be foolish to go and risk my life with a bunch of strangers, but it would have made Thorin happy to have his homeland back, “I’ll go.” 

“Very good; If you will, I’m leaving immediately.” I narrowed my eyes at him. Of course he would come without giving me time to prepare. 

“Fine, let me pack.” I left him in the living room, puttering in his amusement. I put together a simple bag; two shirts, two pairs of pants, necessitates, and small wants. My apothecary book, ritual book, and small bag of spell needs were all tucked inside as well, and within 30 minutes I was packed and ready to go. My dress would be fine for the early parts of the journey, the wrap design hanging to my shins, boots laced tight, and cloak up to cover my head. 

“Well, come on then, let’s meet this company.” I raised my hands above my head and felt the wind grace my fingertips. A force I could not see pulled at my fingertips, tugging them straight up. When the pull became too much, I yanked my hands down and in a fuzzy flash of green, Gandalf and I were standing in the middle of a dirt road, cozy lamps hung along the edge, and doors were periodically placed in the cutouts of hills. Hobbiton was so quaint and cozy, and everything was my size! Flowers and gardens and fields and rolling hills were laid out before us, and it was beautiful. Gandalf put a hand on my shoulder and led me down the dirt road, all the way to a green circular door with a little rune carved into the bottom. At the door are two dwarves already. They are very friendly, and name themselves Oin and Gloin, brothers. From inside, a commotion is heard. 

“No! There's nobody home! Go away and bother somebody else! There's far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is. If this is some clotterd's idea of a joke, I can only say that it is in very poor taste. -” the door opens, and the dwarves let themselves in as the young hobbit stares. “Gandalf. And… friend.” 

“Hello, the elves call me Niethir, daughter of Yelmain, witch of the eastern Greenwood. But that’s just a formal name. You may call me (Name), friend.” I did a little curtsy and he smiled, bowing in return. 

“Bilbo Bagins. I apologize, I wasn’t expecting visitors.”a He gave a very pointed look at Gandalf. 

“He didn’t warn you, did he? He never does.” I sigh, and Bilbo welcomes me in. I place my things neatly in a corner and wander into the rest of the hobbit hole while Bilbo and Gandalf talk. Large wooden arches hold up plaster ceilings, little lanterns brighten the home with warm light. It’s sweet, the feeling of this hobbit home, and it’s wonderful. Anyone who steps in would immediately feel welcomed and at peace. As I enter the dining room, a voice I recognize stops me cold. 

“Mahal save me… it’s you.” Dwalin sits at the table with the others, staring wide eyed at me. I cannot breathe. The last time I saw him was the day…. In Dale. 

“Dwalin… you’re here.” He stood abruptly and stomped over to me. I might have been scared, but only for a moment, because he clapped my shoulders and pressed his forehead against mine. 

“He knew you were alive, lass. He spoke of you every day, drove us all mad!” He laughed and my eyes teared up. 

“Thorin… oh Dwalin I’m so sorry.” His eyes got sad for a second before another was pushing between us. 

“Move aside laddie, let us meet her. You’re name please, lass.”

“(Name), Niethir to some, Yelmaindottir.” They all took turns introducing themselves. Lastly was two young dwarves, one blond one brunette. 

“Fili and Kili, we’re Thorin’s nephews.” My heart dropped. 

“Of course, he told me all about you. Why are you not with your mother, Dis?” Their eyes grew bright with excitement. 

“You know of mother! -”

“He must have told you so much! -”

“Uncle is leading us to Erebor to kill the dragon!” My heart stopped. 

“But… hold on I- you are Thorin’s nephews, yes?” They nod with enthusiasm. “Then… your uncle… Thorin is alive...?” Dwalin pushed the two aside. 

“Of course… why would he not be?” I couldn’t focus on anything. 

“I heard…. In the battle of Moria… the prince had died. I thought… I thought Thorin…” My eyes watered. Thorin was alive. He was alive and he was coming here to lead the company to retake Erebor. Dwalin stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. 

“You thought Thorin was the one that died…” I nodded, just trying to keep myself at least semi-oriented. Suddenly, the silence that festered was cut by a deep knock at the door. 

“He is here.” Gandalf grumbled. My breath left me, and tears fell freely as the door was opened out of view and that lovely deep voice from 60 years ago echoed in the house. 

“Gandalf, I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.” He was just the same, a tad older, and much tougher than when I’d last seen him. He carried with him a tiredness that only comes with carrying the weight of the world. I think he even got taller, if that were possible. He was. Just by a few inches, though. 

“Mark? There's no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!” 

“There is a mark; I put it there myself. Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.” Oakenshield, that was quite an impressive name. It made him gruffer than he used to be.  

“So, this is the hobbit. Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?” He was glaring, obviously not believing Bilbo could do much. 

“Pardon me?”

“Thorin, there are greater matters at hand.” Balin, who seemed to be the wisest, intervened. 

“And what would those be-” His eyes met mine, those same gray-blue eyes. “My Lady.” 

“My Prince. Or should I call you My King?” I was trying to have humor for my own sake, my nerves were nearly suffocating me. He was still in shock, slowly walking towards me, the hobbit forgotten. As he got closer my nerves began to get the better of me. “Thorin, Thorin what’s wrong?” I could barely whisper. He was finally in front of me and there were tears in his eyes that refused to fall. 

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” He collected my hands in his and pressed kisses to them. Fresh tears ran down my face and I all but threw my arms around his neck. His arms instantly wrapped around my waist. 

“I thought you were dead.” I whispered into his shoulder. He laughed. 

“I thought you were dead. In Dale… no one got out, no one ever saw you again…” Tears were blurring everything. When he pulled away, I frantically wiped my face to seem at least mildly presentable. Suddenly my whole body was jostling as the entire company slapped mine and Thorin’s back. 

That night, we supped like old friends, but with Thorin’s hand constantly searching for mine it was hard to consider us friends. He sat at the head of the table and the others made room for me at his side. 

“What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?” Balin spoke up from Thorin’s other side. 

“Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms.” I watched as he spoke, the way he engaged with his people. He speaks like a king; I don’t know how I didn’t see it when we first met. 

“What did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?” Thorin hesitates, seeming to weigh his options. Just before he speaks, he tilts his head to the side and catches my eyes with his.

“They will not come. They say this quest is ours and ours alone.” 

“You’re going on a quest?” Bilbo pipes up from the hallway.

“Really, did you not tell him anything?” I picked on Gandalf, and for the first time in 60 years I watched Thorin smile like he used to.

“Ah, well, lets have some illumination instead.” I didn’t even think about the consequences. Snapping my fingers, a tiny flame sparked in the space between my pointer finger, thumb, and middle knuckle. The dwarves around me started huffing in shock while Thorin just stared at it. I spread my fingers outwards and the little candles Bilbo brought lit up all at once. One of the dwarves started clapping while the others were huffing. Seemed very few of them liked magic tricks. Thorin continued to stare until Gandalf placed a map on the table.

“Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold. When the birds of the old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.” Oin spoke up from the other end of the table.

“Uh…what beast?” Bilbo’s little voice spoke up from the pantry archway.

“Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals.” Bofur was messing with him, but with every word he spoke my memory conjured images to match. I could only sit back and remember.

“Yes, I know what a dragon is.”

“I’m not afraid, I’m up for it. I’ll give him a taste of the dwarfish iron right up his jacksy!” Ori was being arrogant, and I could suddenly separate those who had seen the dragon and those who had heard of the dragon.

“The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just fourteen, and not fourteen of the best, nor brightest; excusing the Witch, that is.” Well, at least Balin was being honest.

“Hey! Who are you calling dim?”

“Sorry, what did he say?”

“We may be few in number. But we’re fighters, all of us! To the last dwarf!” Fili gained everyone’s attention.

“And you forget we have a wizard in our company, Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time.” Kili built off his brother’s energy. I pressed my lips into a line to stop myself from giggling. Gandalf had never killed a dragon. So much was clear when he began sputtering for an answer that wasn’t embarrassing.

“Oh, well. No, uh, I…I wouldn’t say…”

“How many then?”

“What?”

“Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!” They were all yelling now, yelling at Gandalf, at each other, just yelling to yell. Thorin stood suddenly, his chair nearly falling back in the process.

“Enough! If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look East to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?” He was an inspiration, a true leader. Something about watching him speak made me terribly sad. I felt… robbed, of the chance to be near him as he grew into this leader.

“You forget, the Front Gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain.”

“That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true.”

“How come you by this?”

“It was given to me by your father. By Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now.”

“There's another way in.”

“Well, if we can find it, but Dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map...and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth...and no small amount of courage. But if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done.” The rest of the evening passed smoothly, save for Bilbo fainting at the idea of a dragon. The dwarves were collecting near the hearth, talking loudly and catching up. I secluded myself to the bench by the front door. I couldn’t help but feel dread, thinking about facing Thorin. 

“My Lady.” The voice that had haunted me for years called out. Thorin was standing in front of me, concerned and weary. I hated seeing him so worried. 

“My King?” He came closer and knelt in front of me, taking my hands as he had always done.

“You have magic?” I should have known this topic would come up.  

“Yes.” My throat closed up and a nauseating feeling settled in my chest. I had planned to tell him, eventually, somewhere down the line back in Dale; Maybe the next day when I said I’d return. Or maybe when we became closer. But that didn’t happen, none of it did, and it was never possible. 

“What are you?” 

“I’m a Witch, probably the last of my kind now…” Admitting it out loud was harder than I thought. Being the last, the only one… 

“Your mother?” I sighed. 

“She passed…56 years ago, in the winter.” Something close to understanding filled his eyes and he nodded solemnly. 

“I’m so sorry, I wish I had known.” I laughed wryly. 

“I’m sure we both wish we knew a lot of things…” he smiled sadly before his face fell into hard lines. 

“I’m asking Gandalf to remove you from the quest.” My heart nearly stopped. 

“What…? No, you’re not, I’m going with you!” He grabbed my hands insistently. 

“You’re not, I can’t let you, not with where we’re going, Smaug-”

“I survived Smaug once, I would do it again.” He sighed, his shoulders dropping. He was trying to fight a losing battle with me. 

“My lady-”

“(Name), my king. And I came here for you,” he stopped, his mouth half open as his words died. “I thought you were dead, and then Gandalf comes along and says your kin are reclaiming your homeland. You’re not dead… but I’d still do this for you. Do you remember what you said when we first met?” He’s grinning again, but it’s sad, like remembering that day is both happy and terrible. It is for both of us. 

“I said a lot of things that day, My Lady.” He snarks. 

“‘Where would you like to go? Name it and I will lead you anywhere.’” I quote, and his face falls into a mock glare. He’s fallen into my trap, and I feel victorious. His head falls into his hand, his elbow propped up to support it. 

“(Name)-”

“Erebor. Take me to Erebor.” He sighs again in defeat, and I place my hands on his jaw to gently lift his head. His gray eyes meet mine. He’s not upset with me, nor is he angry, he’s simply tired and I know he has every reason to be. “You carry such a terrible weight My King, please, do not carry it alone.” 

~

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