#wardrobe design knew what they were doing i'm telling you

[userchappell]

whoever was in charge of the costuming for trini knew how gay teenagers dress fr. like, that much flannel? shirts tied round the waist? gay.

LITERALLY. LIKE....... I KNOW GAY WHEN I SEE IT.

#wardrobe design knew what they were doing i'm telling you #answered #asks #anthony tag #trini gomez #power rangers #pr 2017

[phoward89]

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika

Based on this ask

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Some cussing. Talks of prostitution. Manipulation. Implied forced body modification/mutilation. Mentions of murder/poison.

Now That We Don't Talk

The chill in the air made you shiver as you walked down the sidewalk towards Tigris’ boutique. Like every Wednesday you were meeting her for brunch. You only wished that you opted to take Coriolanus up on his offer to have the chauffeur take you since the winter winds were a bit harsh today. Of course, you declined his offer, telling him that you were meeting his cousin at her boutique this midmorning instead of the cafe where you usually went for your brunches with the kind hearted stylist.

Coryo wasn't happy with your answer but he accepted it nevertheless. He also told you to wear your new fur coat, the one he got you less than a month ago, since Lucretius ‘Lucky’ Flickerman's weather report predicted a cold, wintery day with the possibility of light snowfall. 

After agreeing to wear the luxury fur coat (your fiance said it was a rare fur, Russian sable, and that you were the only in the Capitol to have it), Coriolanus rose from the dining room table only to give you a kiss on your temple and prepare to leave for an early morning meeting with some political strategist for his campaign.

Yes, your man was running for president of Panem. 

Holding your coat closer together with your glove covered hand, you walked a tad bit faster. You were grateful that the walk to Tigris’ boutique wasn't too far from the penthouse you shared with Coriolanus. Meaning you didn't have to brave the cold too long. You hated the cold, but with how you were raised it's only a given that you'd hate it.

Upon seeing the scrolling print sign for Tigris' boutique swinging in the wind, you felt a sense of relief. In a matter of moments you'd be warm.

“Tigris, I'm here!” You called out to the blonde as soon as you set foot into the shop.

A girl with bubble gum pink hair was at the front counter of the shop. She smiled at you as her boss, Tigris, emerged from the back. You exchanged warm greetings and hugs before she ushered you down a hall and up the stairs that led to her condo.

“I'm sorry that we couldn't go to the cafe, but between requests and designing a new wardrobe for the victory tour, I've been swamped.” Tigris sweetly apologized for your change in plans as you removed your fur coat. 

“It's fine, Tigris. I don't mind having brunch here.” You replied with a smile while hanging the coat up on the corner rack by the door.

The stylist's eyes took in the luxury fur hanging by her door and asked, “That's not the coat from my new line that I made for you. Did Coriolanus get it for you?”

“Yes.” You nodded, going over to the plush sofa. “He gave it to me a few weeks ago and insisted that I wear it today.” You innocently said, not understanding the true meaning behind Coriolanus’ actions.

Bless your heart, but you were innocent and you'd never think that your loving and caring boyfriend would do anything to hurt anyone, especially his cousin. But…that wasn't the case and his true reason for making telling you to wear your new Russian sable coat was to slight his cousin. To hurt Tigris since he knew she gave you the light pink peacoat with faux fur collar from her new line as a holiday gift.

Tigris weakly smiled, feeling sick to her stomach that you were so sweet and being led to the slaughter by her cold and calculating cousin, as she went to the kitchen to grab the charcuterie board she had prepared earlier for your brunch along with making the two of you some mimosas.

When she returned, she set the items on the coffee table only for you to frown and tell her, “You didn't put any alcohol in the orange juice, did you? Coryo doesn't like it when I drink outside of galas or when he's not with me.”

Tigris gave you a long look of disbelief, only to sigh, “He doesn't have to know you had a mimosa in my condo. What's brunch without mimosas?”

Shaking your head, you refused the drink. “He told me not to drink it so I won't. Please, just get me a plain orange juice.”

Tigris sighed heavily and was about to give into your request, but changed her mind whenever a large shiny diamond ring on your left ring finger caught her attention. 

No.

No, you couldn't be.

Grabbing yout hand, she looked between you and the very large ring. “When did you start wearing this?”

“Coriolanus proposed last night.” You beamed, pulling your hand out of your friend's hold only to flick your hand up and admire the ring on your finger. “Coryo says it's one of a kind. That he designed it special for me.” Pointing to the ring, you explained the ring's design. “The large diamond in the middle's a rare pink diamond and all the white diamonds on the side are marquises. It's supposed to be a pink rose because those are my favorite flowers.”

Tigris felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach at hearing you happily tell her about the shackle her ruthless cousin had slipped on your finger hours ago.

She always thought that Coriolanus would grow bored of using you as his plaything and return you to your family. The star designer assumed that her cousin would push you away once he announced his intent to run as the youngest president of Panem. Tigris assumed that Coriolanus would spurn you because of your district background and latch onto a woman of impeccable Capitol breeding in his unquenchable thirst for power.

But she was wrong.

Coriolanus proposed and you said yes. 

Now Tigris knew that she had to warn you about him if you had any chance of escaping him. Any chance at happiness. You weren't just her cousin's girlfriend fiance, but a dear friend of hers and she wanted you to be safe.

You'd never be safe with Coriolanus.

So, with a sad look in her soft blue eyes, the blonde woman told you, “Sweetheart, there's things about Coriolanus you don't know, but need to know.”

“Like what, Tigris?” You innocently asked, assuming that she was going to tell you a childhood story or something.

But what she told you wasn't a childhood story. No, what she told you made your eyes pop out of your head. Tigris, to your utter shock and horror, revealed all of Coriolanus' sins to you. 

Sins that he never wanted you to know because he never wanted you to see him as anything but your loving and protective Coryo. 

When Coriolanus came home you were in the kitchen finishing dinner. The smell had his mouth watering as he hung up his heavy maroon coat. He smiled to himself just thinking about how you'd never have to lift another finger in the kitchen ever again once he became president.

You'd have an entire kitchen full of the best private chefs for that. You'd be able to fill your evenings reading your ancient books and watching those trashy Capitol tv shows you enjoyed so much. Oh, and pleasing him at every whim.

“Dinner smells good, darling.” Coriolanus told you, stepping into the kitchen.

You nearly jumped, feeling a bit snuck up on, as you heard his baritone fill the air. You prayed that he didn't notice your jumpiness, but he did. 

“What's wrong?” He asked, coming up behind you to wrap an arm around your waist in a comforting way.

But what should've felt like a comforting gesture didn't. In fact, his touch made you feel sick. His hands, covered in so much blood from all the murders he committed to rise up the political ranks, felt foreign as they touched you. His touch was that of the angel of death; not a lover, or at least that's how it felt after hearing his cousin’s damning words of warning earlier.

Shaking your head, you weakly assured him, “I'm fine, just tired’s all.”

“I told you, my darling rose, that you should've had the driver take you to Tigris’ for brunch. That it was too cold out for you to walk.” Coriolanus remarked before letting you go. “If you're getting ready to plate our food, I'll pour us some drinks.”

The thought of him pouring you a drink had you choking on air. Tigris' earlier words washed over you.

“He poisons people he deems as disposable or a threat to him, sweetheart. He offers them a drink and watches them die to tie up his loose ends.”

Before you knew what was happening, you were pushing past your fiance (nearly knocking him on his ass) and running out of the kitchen to the bathroom.

Concerned, Coriolanus followed you only to find you hunched over the toilet coughing and spitting up bile. Going over to the vanity, he turned on the sink and grabbed a small washcloth from the drawer they were stored in. He ran the white cloth under the cool water for a few moments before turning off the faucet and wringing out the washcloth. 

Bending down next to you, he tucked your hair behind your ear and ran the cool cloth over your face. “Are you okay, darling? You're not coming down with something, are you?”

He couldn't help but hope that he knocked you up. He wanted nothing more than to tie you to him forever with a baby. Having a child with him would be more of a life binding contract then marriage. But he knew that morning sickness usually happened, well, in the morning.

His icy blue eyes looked at you with concern. Believe it or not, the cold man with a too small black heart truly did care about you and your well-being. Truth be told, you and the cat you twisted his arm into adopting were the only things on God's green earth that he gave a fuck about. 

Hell, he didn't even give a shit about his own cousin these days, given how cold she was to him once he returned from his summer stint in District 12 as a peacekeeper all those years ago. Only reason he hasn't cut her off yet is because of you and how much you adore the fashionista bitch.

“I'm fine, just a bit tired.” You lied. Truth was you weren't fine. The fact that your fiance was a murderer that might end up poisoning you to get rid of you because of your inferior birth made your stomach churn. 

Yes, Tigris had told you that Coriolanus looked down on district people. That he was disgusted by them and viewed them to be lower than gutter rats. She told you that she thought he would've grown tired of you, but now feared what he'd do to you since he wanted to marry you.

She told you that she felt her cousin had no real intentions on marrying you. That she was afraid he'd poison you (kill you) to gain sympathy and higher polling numbers for his campaign.

Now the blonde woman's words ran wild thru your head and you couldn't even look at the platinum blonde man who owned your heart the same way again. 

“Perhaps you should go rest in our room.” Coriolanus suggested, thinking maybe some rest would make you feel better.

Coriolanus was wrong. Rest didn't make you feel better. Nothing made you feel better. In fact, in the days after your brunch with Tigris you started to pull away from him.

At first it was subtle, but then it became painfully obvious to him that you were pulling away. Especially when you stopped calling him Coryo. That's when he knew he no longer owned your heart.

Something was wrong and it drove him insane not knowing what it was. He couldn't figure out what had changed so drastically. It's as if you looked at him with undying love one day and then suddenly woke up to look at him with a fearful love the next.

A fearful love…

Damnit!

Did something scare you? Did somebody tell you something to make you shrink into yourself and become a shell? If they did, well, they'd pay for it. 

Pay with their life.

He decided that he was confronting you tonight about being so distant. He was getting to the bottom of your problems because over a week of you not being the woman he fell for was enough. Coriolanus couldn't handle you pulling away from him anymore.

Goddamnit, he's gone too long without fucking you. 

Enough was enough.

“Darling, we need to talk.” Coriolanus told you as soon as he got home from work. 

You stared at him from your spot on the sofa as he hung up his coat. “About what?” You asked, your eyes flickering back to the book you had in your hand. It was an old one from the ancient pre-Panem days. Your fiance got it for you at some high-end auction house.

“Us.” The word was clipped as he let it out of his mouth. 

You refused to look at Coriolanus as he crossed the room. Instead, you kept your eyes glued to the pages of Pride & Prejudice. 

“Did I do something to make you pull away from me?” You heard him ask while stopping in front of you. 

“No.” You half lied. He didn't do anything to you (yet), but it was the sins he committed in the past that had your head spinning. Deciding you didn't want to get into it with him, you simply said, “I'm not pulling away from you, Coriolanus. I've just been tired’s all.”

“Don't lie to me.”

“I'm not-” You began only for him to loom over you and shout, “Yes you are!” 

The pressure had finally gotten to him. He finally snapped. 

Yanking the book out of your hands and tossing it somewhere across the room, he ranted, “You won't call me Coryo anymore, my darling. You've been pulling away from me for over a week now and I need to know why. I miss the way you used the look at me, darling. Hell, I miss the way we used to be.” 

Your eyes fell to the floor as you sighed, “I told you, I've just been tired.”

That was the wrong answer. 

You should've told him the truth…

Coriolanus grabbed you by your upper arms with a tight, bruising force and pulled you to your feet, all the while yelling, “Stop fucking lying to me, darling! I can't handle your distance and lies anymore!” His chest wildly heaved up and down in anger as he added in, “I want to know what I did to make you stop loving me, my darling rose.”

You never stopped loving him and told him as much, which only prompted him to ask why you've been pulling away from him.

So now the truth you've been keeping from him flowed out of your mouth like a raging river.

“Tigris saw my ring and told me that you didn't mean to go thru with marrying me. That you'd just poison and kill me to boost votes for your campaign and gain sympathy as being the heartbroken lover.” 

“What?” Coriolanus blinked his baby blues. He removed his hands from your arms, only to take your hands in his and lead you to sit down on the sofa. A soft look washed over his face as he assured you, “I'd never do that to you, darling." 

Shaking your head, you cried, “She says that you've killed before for power and to climb the political ladder, Coriolanus.” Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you wailed, “And she told me that you're disgusted by district people, Coriolanus. That you view us as lower than gutter rats.” 

It was true that he thought district people were scum, but it wasn't true that he viewed you that way. You weren't scum to him. You were better than where you were born. Hell, you lived in the Capitol for so long now that he doesn't even consider you District anymore.

“Tigris says that I don't matter to you; that you don't love me and will marry a girl of proper Capitol breeding once you dump poison in my drink.”

How dare his cousin tell you that he didn't love you?! He did love you. Hell, he was more obsessed with you then he ever was with the lying, treacherous, traitor, snake charmer of a whore singer he nearly destroyed his life over.

No, he loved you with everything he had inside of him. Despite being a dark creature that had no problems killing to get, keep, and maintain power, he truly did love you. You were the best thing that ever happened to him and he knew that he couldn't let his cousin turn you against him. 

Coriolanus wanted, no needed, to be your Coryo again and he'd say anything to make it happen.

“I wish you would've told me what Tigris told you as soon as it happened, my darling rose.” Coriolanus sighed while wrapping his arms around you. Pulling you against his chest, his silver tongue weaved its magic with the perfect words to turn you against Tigris. “She's jealous that nobody wants her because, despite her impeccable reputation as a stylist, a lot of men remember that years ago she used to sell her body on the black market. Tigris is also upset that she became a stylist because I told Dr. Gaul that the tributes needed uniforms and interview outfits.” Threading his fingers thru your soft hair, he added in the final words he needed to make Tigris look like the villain in this story. “She's upset that it was me who made her who she is. Made her a star designer. And she's jealous that I have somebody when she doesn't because of some choices she made before I could make her stylist dreams come true.”

“I never knew Tigris sold herself.” You gasped, clearly a bit horrified at the thought of your friend doing sexual favors with men for money. 

A large smug smirk spreads over Coriolanus' face as he continues to hold you close to his chest. Oh, he knew that he had you right where he wanted you. He had to lay it on thick so he'd be able to reel you in; have you under his thumb again. But he planned on having you look at him like you used to. He'd say and do anything to accomplish that too.

His voice quivered as he put on an act worthy of an academy award. “My darling rose, we don't talk anymore and it's killing me. The possibility of losing you because of some lies my jealous whore of a cousin told you because she's alone and miserable is heartbreaking.” He sucked in a breath, making you think that he was trying to prevent himself from breaking down, only to confess in a broken timbre, “I miss making love to you, darling.”

The phrase making love made his skin crawl as if spiders were underneath the epidermis, but he knew that to manipulate you back into his arms then he had to say it. After all, making love sounds more poetic than fucking your goddamn brains out does.

You lifted your head off his chest, only to look up into his icy blue eyes. Eyes that looked pitiful, like a kicked puppy’s, as he poured his heart out to you.

“I love you more than I ever thought possible, my darling rose. You consume me and losing you would destroy me. Turn me into a monster.” Coriolanus truthfully admitted. He wasn't lying about that, he was obsessed with you and knew deep down that if he ever lost you then he'd become a monster deadlier than anything that ever came out of Dr. Gaul's lab. 

And that was scary considering at the moment he had no morals, just the compass of his late father to guide him.

His large, calloused hand cupped your cheek as he swore, “I will never hurt you, Y/N. And I will never ever kill you or try to.” He pressed a kiss to your lips, only to rest his forehead on yours and confess. “I love you, my darling rose.”

That phrase was one he never thought he'd utter, but he did it to reel you in. To make sure that you never left his side. He needed you just like he needed air to breathe, so if he had to make himself a bit weak by saying the love word to you then so be it.

Hearing him say ‘I love you, my darling rose’ made your fears and doubts about him fly right out the window. He'd never said that to you before, not until now, and you knew he meant it. That he said it because he loved you and didn't want you to leave him.

But you could never leave him. You loved him too much.

“I love you too, Coryo.” You softly smiled, looking at your hand still holding his.

Hearing you call him Coryo again was the signal Coriolanus needed to let him know that he'd won. You were once again his and under his control.

“I'm sorry I was being distant. I was just scared.” You apologized, feeling foolish for pushing your fiance away over hearsay.

Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, your fiance told you, “I know you were, darling. I only wished that you came to me so I could put your fears to rest.”

You believed that he loved you and wouldn't do you any harm, but you were still curious about one thing. “Coryo, have you poisoned people to climb up the political ladder; for power?”

“Of course not, Y/N.” He firmly denied, only to add in the rhetorical question of, “And why would I want to kill my political allies? Makes no sense, darling.”

Yes, why would he want to kill his political allies? You couldn't help, but think that he'd need his political connections alive since they'd be able to help him in elections better breathing than pushing up daisies. 

What you didn't know was that Coriolanus craved power and would kill anyone to get it and keep it. Didn't matter who they were. But…you didn't need to know that.

All you needed to know was that he'd NEVER kill you.

“Yea, it doesn't make any sense.” You innocently agreed with your fiance.

Looking between you and the clock on the wall, he suggested, “We still have half an hour before the Justice Building closes for the night. Let's go have the Magistrate marry us.”

“You want to get married tonight?” You asked, wide-eyed, with a mix of excitement and disbelief in your voice.

No.

No, he didn't want to get married tonight. In fact, Coriolanus wanted to marry you in a lavish ceremony dripping in diamonds, gold, roses, and silk bunting in the presidential palace right after winning the election. But…he knew that Tigris made you doubt his intentions of making you Mrs. First Lady Snow so the only way to scrub that from your mind was to marry you right away.

“Yes.” He nodded. Pulling you to your feet, he simply instructed, “Go put on that white dress you wore for the winter gala, Mrs. Snow.”

The following morning Tigris’ heart sank into the pit of her stomach as she read the main headline in the political section of the newspaper.

Presidential Frontrunner Now A Family Man- Senator Coriolanus Snow & Long Time Girlfriend Wed Last Night In Private Ceremony

Tigris mourned for the loss of your freedom, of your life. She has no idea why you didn't heed her warnings, but she wished you did.

Before she could start to read the article, a knock sounded at her door. When she answered it, she found a pair of peacekeepers at her door. They told her that they had strict orders from Senator Snow to escort her to a very important appointment he had made for her. 

It was an appointment that would change the rest of her life and if she knew what it was for, maybe she would've tried to run from the peacekeepers her cousin had doing his dark bidding.

You hadn't seen Tigris since you married Coriolanus. He said that it was for the best. Of course, you believed him. He married you when she said he wouldn't. Coriolanus had proved her a liar.

It's been roughly 5 months since you've been Mrs. Snow and you couldn't be happier, especially since you were expecting your first child with Coryo.

A baby boy.

A baby boy the two of you decided to name Cassian Xandros. It was to keep up the Snow tradition of the first born son having the initials C.X.S.

You thought it was so sweet how your husband wanted to uphold his family's traditions.

Too bad he didn't let you uphold any of the traditions you grew up with. Mhm…

“Are we still going to be on this campaign tour during the games?” You asked your husband, who was sitting in an armchair, sipping on coffee and reading the paper, in the luxury train carriage you shared.

“We’ll go back to the Capitol for the games; then we'll continue the campaign tour.” He explained while turning the page of his newspaper.

You were reading your favorite book, Pride & Prejudice, whenever Coriolanus stood up and walked over to where you were resting on the sofa. Folding the paper, so only one page was visible, he handed it to you and solemnly said, “Darling, you need to see this.”

“What is it? A drop in your poll numbers?” You innocently asked, setting your book aside and reaching for the paper.

“No, it's something very unsettling.” He said as you took the paper from his large hand.

You wondered what was so unsettling in the paper, but soon got your answer as you read the headline in the current events column.

Star Stylist Tigris Has Transformed Into Her Namesake, A Tiger

As if that wasn't enough, the picture of her transformed face made you gasp. She no longer looked like herself, but truly did look like a tiger. She had plastic surgery and tattoos to modify her face, neck, and chest. Black lines zig zagged all over her and her once blue eyes were now a bright yellow with thick, sweeping liner. She even had whisker implants and her upper lip split to mimic the mouth of a cat. Even her hair was different. The once light blonde locks now had chunk black highlights in it. 

You couldn't believe your eyes. Why would she do that? She was so pretty…

You must've asked your question out loud, because the next thing you know your husband's sitting next to you, sighing, “I don't know why, my darling rose. She was pretty, but now nobody will ever want her.” Taking the paper from you and passing you back your book, he knowingly said, “If only she didn't tell you lies; try to break us up. Then she wouldn’t be alone.”

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies

#dark!coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow x reader #innocent!reader #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coryo x reader #coryo x you #coryo snow fanfiction

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

breaking down your walls to request Velvette spesifically crafting an outfit for an overweight reader to help their self confidence+being unable to find proper clothing in their size? As a fat person i struggle a lot with pants in particular so it is slightly a self indulgent request but fluffy request i could give right now :D - @queenbshoneypot

This is actually going to be a plot point in Electric Love! As a plus-size girly myself, I'm constantly talking about the struggles of plus-size fashion and really look forward to a fresh take that not many would think of when it comes to Velvette. That being said, here's some stand-alone with Velvette as the main romance!

Just the Way You Are [Velvette x Reader]

"Darling, no. Just... no," Velvette sighed as she looked through your closet with disapproval.

The two of you had only recently started dating and Velvette had noticed that while you dressed... nice enough, you always seemed to wear the same type of clothes. Which wasn't unusual in Hell. There were plenty of sinners like Vox and Valentino who had discovered the trademark look for their tacky bodies and stuck to it.

But what you wore lacked any semblance of character. It didn't represent you in the slightest. Sure, it was cute enough, but it wasn't you. And if she was going to be with someone, she wanted them to be themselves inside and out. Especially on the outside. She had a reputation to uphold and her partner had to be dressed well. It was simply a must.

"Seriously, isn't there anything else?" The fashion designer grumbled as she pulled out yet another cardigan. The same cuts, the same patterns, same, same, same, same, same.

"Not really," you sighed as you watched her verbally rip your wardrobe to shreds. It wouldn't surprise you if she started doing it on a literal level as well. "It was like this back in the living realm too, y'know. There was only ever one store at the mall for larger sizes. Between that, the men's section at Target, and really dodgy online sites, there weren't really any other options. It's even harder to find anything here."

"Gods, it's just all so tasteless," Velvette frowned as she finally gave up on trying to find anything of quality. "I enjoy a good skull pattern as much as any other, but why is it literally all flowers and skulls? All in the same shit color schemes too."

When Velvette tore her disgusted gaze away from her closet, she saw you hugging yourself uncomfortably on the edge of your bed.

"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, Calavera," Velvette sighed as she crossed the room to sit with you. She placed a hand on your arm and smiled at you. "If anything, I'm upset for you. This shit isn't right."

You couldn't help but relax slightly at the nickname. Valentino had been the one to originally suggest it when Velvette had been playing with a pair of her skull earrings while she'd been daydreaming about you before the two of you had started dating.

"It isn't," you agree as you close your eyes and lean your head on top of hers. "But it's how it's always been."

"Well, screw that," Velvette scoffed. Despite the harsh edge to her words, you smiled as you felt her fingers intertwine with your own. "It won't stay that way if I have anything to say about it. And believe me, I do."

She squeezed your hand and you lifted your head to look at her properly. Her eyes were filled with determination and that spark of inspiration you'd originally fallen for. "You'll model for me, won't you?" Velvette asked. You both knew it wasn't really a question, but rather she was telling you that she wanted you to.

She bit her nail as she thought over design ideas with you in mind. "The first line would be entirely yours. No one else would have access. I want to make something that screams you. Make the rest of hell jealous as fuck. It'd bring in attention from larger demons interested in modeling as well. Then we could release a public line. Start designing options. Vox could pull some numbers and get me statistics on body types... Valentino could probably use some of the models I chose and get more attention going in the studio. Not that fetishized shit though... Something classier than that. Normalize it a bit."

It wasn't until she heard you sniffle that she snapped out of her headspace and looked up to see you crying.

"Fuck, what is it, love?" Velvette asked as she cupped her face with concern. She wiped away a tear with her thumb and you let out a soft laugh as your hand lifted to hold hers.

"I just..." you sniffle again as you try not to get all gross and snotty from the overwhelming emotion. "The way you're jumping into this without hesitation. You're not even just doing it to humor me. I know you. You don't work on projects that don't inspire you and you have that fire in your eyes that you do when you get really into your work. You have no idea how much that means to me."

Velvette wiped away the tears on both sides of your face before leaning in and kissing you gently. "Of course, I'm into this, darling. I want you to feel proud of who you are. I want you to see what I see in you and I want all of Hell to see it too. You're a bad bitch, you're sweet, and you're mine."

She smirked as she pulled back, taking your hands and squeezing them in your lap. "Besides, this will be revolutionary in the fashion world. An entire corner of the industry is completely ignored and neglected. No one else could dream of bringing it to life with half as much of an eye for quality as my own."

You laugh, pressing your forehead against hers as the last of your tears fall. "Damn right," you grin.

"And you'll be there with me," Velvette smiled as she pressed against you softly.

"Every step of the way."

#velvette x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette

[secretsandwriting]

Come On Darling

Part one has gotten a lot of attention and all the comments were really motivating so have a part two. Idk how good it is, i wrote this in the same general time it took me to write part one so hopefully it's decent.

Part One

"Hello, welcome to Roselight! How may I help you today?" The girl working there didn't even stutter when she saw Noah. She must be used to it in such an expensive shop like this one.

"I need a new tailored suit, she needs a full closet." You could almost see the dollar signs adding up behind her eyes.

"Of course! I'll have the tailors get prepared. As for her what are you thinking about for full closet? Different styles? All dressy? Casual? Sexy?" She didn't even look at you, just paying attention. While she and Noah were talking, you looked around the store. Eyes stopping on one of the other employees smiled at you. She was dressed down a little more than all the others, still in all designer. She seemed more normal then high class like everyone else working.

"Well, then are you ready to start shopping?" She was looking at you expectantly.

"No." Noah's arm you were told to hold onto tightened. His hand resting on yours. Not a threat a warning. "I was hoping I could work with her." You motioned to the employee you had seen earlier. Noah's arm relaxed.

"Unfortunately, she's not a shopper. She just helps stock and bag items."

"She'll be a shopper today then." Noah ordered. She finally started getting nervous.

"A manager has to sign off on i-"

"Then get a manager." Noah interrupted. "She wants to work with her, and we don't want to stand her arguing." A hurried, "I'll get one" was thrown over her shoulder as she retreated to the back. Remerging a minute later, a sharply dressed man following her.

"Hello, I'm Marcus, one of the managers. What can I do for you today?"

"She needs a new wardrobe and would like her to help." Noah motioned to the girl. Marcus glanced over at the girl, who looked like she was starting to get a little nervous with the attention she was getting for a reason she wasn't aware of. Marcus glanced at you next, understanding flashed through his eyes.

"Ah, of course. I'll go inform her of your request and as long as she agrees to it, I'll sign off on it."

"No i-"

"That would be great!" You interrupted Noah. You didn't want to pressure her into having to deal with Noah. Marcus came back a few minutes later, the girl following behind him.

"This is Jackie, she's agreed to help you and I've signed off her helping." His gaze was directed at directly at you. "All commissions will go to her for this sale." Noah's posture changed, considering Jackie's shift, it wasn't good.

"Thank you, that was my next question." Once again Noah relaxed. He had to be overly stressed because that could not be normal.

"I'll leave Jackie with you, let me know if there's anything I can help with." Marcus excused himself. Noah gave the same instructions he gave Caroline and Jackie wrote a few things down in a small notebook.

"Ok, whole new closet?" Jackie looked at you. "You've told me. I'm asking Y/n now." Jackie interrupted Noah when he tried to tell her again. She turned back to you. You nodded. "All styles?" Another nod. "No budget?"

"Budget." Noah immediately started protesting. Jackie waited until they stopped.

"Alright, we can easily get everything you need and any extra you want with 1 Million. So we'll set that as a tentative budget. Budget for you, tentative for the no budget peanut gallery." You were soon whisked away to a small room to get measured. With that out of the way, you were lead to a room full of overpriced clothes and accessories.

Anything you looked at twice or seemed interested in was added to a growing pile of try ons. Once you had ten full outfits, try ons started. Jackie was exactly what you wanted. If it looked good, she made sure you knew it. If it didn't look good, she figured out why. Certain styles were completely removed from the cart, some colors were pulled out too. She didn't try to get you to like the most expensive styles, or the big trends, her focus was solely on what you liked and what looked good on you. Something you were very grateful for.

Four hours of shopping later, and you were lead out to the main room where you had come in. Noah joined you and paid for the large amount of clothing you had liked enough to leave with.

Next you were taken to a shoe store. This time you had a name Jackie had given you. Another sign off and bags left with Noah, you got to work looking for shoes.

An hour and a half and 6 pair of shoes later, you were taken to a makeup store. Another name and sign off, more bags left with Noah and the process started all over again.

Three hours later, Noah paid and you left the outlet and went back to the hotel. Food was dropped off at the room and Noah inhaled his before changing and running out the door for a meeting away from the hotel. A quick "Here's my card, Don't leave the hotel or there will be problems." was thrown over his shoulder before the door was closed.

You started putting your things away, quickly realizing there wasn't enough room for all your new things and Noah's in the small closet in the room. So you made a call to the front desk and a half hour later a clothing rack with a few shelves at the bottom was delivered to your room. Setting it up was easy.

The hard part was deciding if you wanted to risk being petty and moving his things or just putting yours there.

Petty won.

If he was going to force you to get an entire new closet of clothes, you were going to put them in a closet. While moving his suits you snorted to yourself. If circumstances had been different, this shopping spree would have been a dream come true, but now, it just felt like something you would have to worry about repaying later.

Once all of his clothes hanging up were moved, you put his shoes on the bottom shelf. Once you were finished moving his things and adding yours, you moved onto the dresser. Moving his things into two of the six drawers and filled the other four with yours. Next step was rearranging the bathroom to add in the large amount of random makeup things you had gotten.

With nothing else to do, you looked through the list of things the hotel offered and decided to go get a massage. The shopping spree and large total numbers had apparently tired you enough that you didn't really care if Noah was upset.

-----

Noah came back from the meeting to a dark and empty hotel room. Nicolas thankfully kept his head and told Noah to call the front desk to see if they had seen her. That phone call lead him to the spa where he was let into a small room where you were laying face down on a table while a woman worked on the knots in your back.

"He needs to go next. He seems way to tense to be healthy." Noah just stared at you in exasperation, questioning why the hell he was putting himself through all of this for Alec

#noah sebastian x reader #Noah sebastian #mafia au #bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens band

[illuminatedquill]

Ghost Stories #02

Feat. Garazeb Orrelios + Sabine Wren + Ezra Bridger

Story Context: Zeb catches Sabine doing something embarrassing regarding Ezra. Desperate to keep her secret, Sabine endeavors to secure Zeb's silence at any cost.

Ghost Stories #01

The door to Sabine's room opened with its customary hiss, allowing for Zeb to step inside. In normal circumstances, the first thing he would do is admire all the new artwork covering the walls of her room; Sabine was a top tier artist, and she constantly refreshed and updated the interior with painted visuals of their most recent escapades. It was a fun hobby that allowed distance from the constant grind of waging warfare against the implacable Empire. Everyone on the Ghost crew had something personal to distract themselves from the war - Hera, for example, had her constant maintenance and upkeep of the Ghost.

Kanan, he knew, practiced the Jedi art of meditation and centering oneself within the Force. Ezra had recently taken up cooking as a hobby, to surprisingly delicious results. Even Chopper had a side hustle: scamming low ranking Imperial officers of their ill-gotten credits with threats of blackmail to help pay for supplies (Hera didn't know about this and would strongly disapprove if she did).

Squinting around in Sabine's bedroom, Zeb quickly noted that the atmosphere was different this time around.

For one, he couldn't see a blasted thing. It was pitch dark. The only light source came from a small desk pressed against one of the walls; a bright, glaring lamp that shined down onto the surface to show a wicked looking knife, a whetstone to sharpen said knife, and, on the chair in front of it, a casually dressed Sabine. Her casual wear consisted of simple, comfy athletic shorts and a slightly too large shirt with a loth-cat design printed on the front - a recent addition to her wardrobe from their last visit to Lothal.

He frowned pensively at the loth-cat shirt. Isn't that . . . no, it couldn't be, he thought.

Sabine, her back towards Zeb, picked up the knife and whetstone. With practiced, precise movements, she began to sharpen the knife.

Shink. Shink. Shink.

Zeb's ears pricked up slightly each time the knife was sharpened. It was a somewhat sinister sound, enhanced even more by Sabine's shadowed profile against the lamp light.

I have a bad feeling about this, he thought.

"Zeb. Appreciate you coming here tonight," said Sabine casually.

The big Lasat swallowed nervously. "You, uh, called me here. Wanted to talk about something."

Shink. Shink. Shink. The knife's edge continued to be sharpened, Sabine's hands moving delicately.

"That's right," she replied. "You remember what occurred yesterday?"

Zeb scratched idly at the side of his head. "We picked up some supplies from Capital City, checked on Ryder and his crew, and then just relaxed outside of Ezra's comm tower for a bit before receiving new instructions from Rebel command."

Shink. The knife stopped moving briefly, just hovering over the whetstone. "Anything else happen, Zeb?"

"Is this - is this about your drawing? Of Ezra? Cuddling with those loth cats?"

Sabine finally turned around to look at him. In the light, her knife glinted with a wicked gleam.

"I need you to do me a favor, Zeb."

The Lasat kept his eyes on the knife in her hand. "I'm listening."

Smiling wolfishly, Sabine said, "I need you to hand over that drawing. I know you were going to show it off to him."

"I, uh, wasn't planning on it." That was a bald-faced lie. He'd ripped it out of Sabine's sketchbook when she had left it discarded and had been about to spill it all to Ezra before being interrupted by Sabine's summons.

She cocked her head at him. Her smile dropped. "You're lying to me, Zeb. I can always tell. You've got a lousy sabacc face, and you know it."

Zeb was still watching the knife. "What are you going to do with that knife, Sabine?"

She twirled it expertly between her fingers. "It's all nice and sharp now, Zeb. Guess I have to put it somewhere, right?"

He was breaking into a cold sweat now. "Where are you, uh, going to put it?"

Sabine shrugged. "I haven't decided yet. Depends on your answer."

He backed up against the wall, feeling somewhat desperate. "Look, Sabine. What's the big deal? You draw Ezra all the time! Not just him, too. You've drawn me, Hera, Kanan, even Chopper. I don't see what's so special about this one drawing."

The knife twirled and twirled. Light reflected from the steel surface, right into his face, causing discomfort.

"You know what's special about this particular drawing, Zeb. And I want it back. Ezra can't know."

"What," Zeb shot back, "that you like him now?"

Sabine froze. He was treading on the thin ice now and knew it, but pressed his advantage while she was taken off guard.

"He's not going to understand that from your super special drawing of him, Sabine. Your secret's safe. I promise."

Actually, it was fairly obvious from the drawing. Sabine's prior sketches of Ezra were always just that: sketches. No extra effort put into them, and usually gave the impression that she was just studying his anatomy, using his facial expressions as practice to keep her art sharp.

But, oh, it wasn't like that anymore.

Her newest drawings of Ezra were, indeed, something truly special. She had been paying extra attention to him as of late. Even someone oblivious like Ezra would immediately sense the immense labor of love and affection that went into the art, clear as day.

While she was thinking, the Lasat carefully began to sidle towards the doorway.

Frowning, staring at the floor, Sabine asked, "You really think Ezra won't be able to tell?"

"Yeah, of course," Zeb lied. "He's denser than durasteel, that boy."

Sabine snorted. "You're probably right."

He almost cried out in relief. "Good to hear - "

The knife embedded itself into the wall, right next to his ear. He froze, knees shaking like jelly.

Sabine's eyes glinted evilly in the dark. "I'm still going to need that drawing back, Zeb. Before you leave."

He quickly reached into his pocket and offered it to her. She snatched it from his hand.

"Are we done here?" Zeb squeaked.

She grinned malevolently at him. "We are. Thanks, Zeb."

Pausing at the door, he mustered his remaining courage and said, "Sabine, at some point Ezra is going to find out. You can't keep it a secret forever."

After a long moment, he heard her quiet reply. "I know. It's just . . . it's not the right time. I'll tell him on my own terms."

Zeb turned around. The look on her face was a little sad.

"You know," he said, thinking out loud, "Ezra might know already."

Sabine's eyes went wide with shock and apprehension. "What? How?"

"Because every time you look at him, your face looks like this." And he gave Sabine the most dopey, idiotic, love-sick smile as a hideous impression of her.

Uttering a curse, Sabine leapt up from her seat. Zeb scampered out the door, almost colliding with Ezra.

Grinning at him as he ran past, Zeb teased, "Ah, mate. You've got quite the handful of work ahead of you."

Blinking in confusion, Ezra said, "Huh?"

"Garazeb Orrelios," came Sabine's furious yell as she tore after the big Lasat. "Come back here!"

Making a beeline to the Phantom II (so he could lock himself safely within), Zeb almost missed an exchange between Ezra and Sabine:

"What's going on - wait. Is that my loth-cat shirt?" asked Ezra.

Skidding to a halt, Zeb risked a peek around the corner. I knew I recognized that shirt, he thought.

Sabine almost tripped in shock. "Uh - n-no?" she stammered in response. A flush was already spreading on her cheeks.

Ezra peered at her closely. "Pretty sure it is," he said. "Why do you have it? I've been looking for it everywhere."

Zeb broke out into a cold sweat again as he watched. Think before you speak, Sabine, he warned silently, trying to reach out telepathically. Use that brain of yours!

"It, uh, it smells nice," she blurted out. "Like you."

There was a sickening pause.

Sabine's hands clapped over her mouth in instinctive horror.

Ezra went slack-jawed in surprise. "You think I smell nice?"

Redder than a blaster bolt, Sabine sprinted back into her room. A couple seconds later, Zeb and Ezra heard the sound of muffled screaming.

Ezra stood there for a moment, silent, and then said, in a loud tone meant to come off as super casual, "You can have it! I'm glad you like it! I'll just get another one, it's fine!"

The screaming got louder.

Zeb's hands pressed against his mouth, trying desperately to hold in the laughter threatening to burst out.

Oh, Sabine. You have it bad for this goober.

*Author's Note: Hello! So, this is the continuation of a series that was previously called 'Sabezra Seed'. I re-named it because 'Ghost Stories' felt more apt (and also sounds way cooler), considering that it's a series of short fics featuring the Ghost crew.

There's no special reason for this short story. I just wanted to see Sabine and Ezra act goofy and just be teenagers. We really don't get many instances of them acting their age during Rebels, due to the war and the pressures of their circumstances forcing them to grow up quickly. Zeb, being the typical older brother of the Ghost crew, is an instigator here and almost ends up paying with his life, ha ha.

Life aboard the Ghost, when they're not flying missions of galactic importance, probably resembles a sit-com, honestly.

#sabezra #sabine wren #ezra bridger #garazeb orrelios #star wars rebels #ezrabine #star wars #sabezra fanfiction #ghost stories 02

[vibraniumavenger]

Ties That Mend -Part 1

TW/CW: Alcohol, Tony's self destructive tendencies, if there's any more let me know and I'll add them!

A/N: This is something I started many years ago, I just never finished it. I'm currently working on the next few parts, I'm accepting suggestions on where this should go too! It's not the best but I hope you enjoy.

Lugging your suitcase behind you, you hesitantly walked into the elevator. You pressed the button that read 'Floor 12' and waited as it made its way up. You were nervous, you didn't want to be here. Unfortunately, being the newest Avenger meant you had to stay at the tower against your will. You were not impressed. 

You finally reached your desired floor, before taking a step out. All eyes drifted to your current position and you felt somewhat nervous. They all stood and made their way over to greet you. You extended your hand towards them, allowing them to shake your hand if necessary. A red headed woman was the first to introduce herself. "I'm Agent Romanoff, I'll be your training partner and mentor. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. Director Fury assigned you to me for a reason. He deems you worthy, now prove it. As an avenger, you have responsibilities and commitments. We look out for each other, okay? Don't screw up." She warned. All you could do was nod in agreement, your eyes slightly widened. Her face softened and that's when she let out a small chuckle. "You can call me Natasha. I promise, I don't bite. I'm sorry for scaring you." 

You relaxed as she took your hand and shook it, before turning to the man that stood next to her. "This is Clint. He's annoying, but you get used to it." She earned a groan of playful annoyance from him before he shoved her. She proceeded to introduce everybody else, until she got to the last few members. "Hey, I'm Sam." He smirked, sending you a wink. You couldn't help but scoff. "And I'm not interested." You shot back before turning to the next guy. 

"This is Tony, I’m sure you’ve probably heard of him. He owns the tower, designs the equipment we use. Also, his ego is bigger than his wallet, so be warned." She joked. You turned away from him quickly, forcing your attention on anything else. His face dropped, but he quickly fixed it before the others noticed. 

"I'm Y/N." you smiled. "Can somebody show me to my room?" Tony was quick to offer his assistance, but you brushed it off. "Nat, do you mind? I do have a few questions…" she agreed and you grabbed your suitcase, following her closely. Tony sighed, pouring himself a whiskey and knocking it back quickly. 

Reaching your room, you thanked Natasha, politely declining her offer of assistance before closing the door behind you. Deciding you would unpack, you emptied your possessions onto the floor. You organised your clothes, placing them in your wardrobe shortly after. Your bathroom was then full of toiletries and you even hung up a few photos. It finally suited your style. By the time you finished, you were exhausted. You just wanted to sleep. Unfortunately, sleep was one of your biggest struggles. If you slept more than four hours, or even slept without a nightmare, it was guaranteed you were becoming sick, which also wasn't very often. 

A voice filled your room, alerting you that dinner was being served. You knew it was Jarvis. Making your way to the dining room, a familiar scent filled the air. A small smile graced your face as you entered the room, your favourite meal presented on the table. Taking a seat in between Bucky and Clint, you waited until everybody else had loaded their plate before taking your own portion and tucking in. You ate in silence as conversations erupted around you, each person enjoying the food prepared for them as they socialised with their team mates. 

"Y/N, why don't you tell us about yourself?" Steve suggested politely. You hesitated, unsure of what to say. "I-uh, I'm not that interesting. There's nothing really important about me." Tony scoffed, causing everybody to raise their eyebrows and turn their gazes to him. You rolled your eyes before continuing. "What do you guys want to know?" 

This time, Wanda was the one to ask. "Is there a significant other we need to know about?” She wiggles her eyebrows in a teasing manner, causing you to blush profusely. After shaking your head, Sam piped up. "In that case, how about you and I get to know each other?" The rest of the team laughed as he sent you a wink. 

"Like I said earlier bird brain, not interested." You playfully shot back. His right hand lay over his heart and he feigned hurt, causing you to roll your eyes again. "We heard you're pretty smart. In fact, you have similar knowledge to both Tony and I. It'd be nice to have your input on a few projects if you're willing to?" Bruce smiled. You smiled back, nodding your head and confirming your availability to help. Tony watched you inquisitively throughout it all. "You must've had a real good education. Where did you go?" Bruce asked again. 

"I was homeschooled, taught by my father until he passed, my brother until the age of 16 and then my Aunt. By then, I knew everything there was to know. All I had to do was go to college to take the exams, the rest is history." You replied. “Your brother must be an exceptional man. I'd love to meet him one day." Bruce responded. You gave a small nod, brushing off any emotions. Steve spoke up again. "So, do you like jogging?" He simply asked. "I do, I go twice a day. Know any good spots?" You questioned. "Sam and I actually go twice a day too, you're more than welcome to join us." You smiled, thanking him before finishing your food. 

"Would you care for a drink?" Thor held the amber liquid out to you. Shaking your head, you declined. "I don't drink." You stated casually before standing up and clearing your plate. The rest of the team did the same and you decided to excuse yourself before they could ask you anything else. You bid them goodnight, walking into the elevator and eventually back to your room. Your nightly routine commenced and you slid into your bed, laying in the darkness until your eyes fluttered closed and you fell into a deep slumber. 

You were already awake when Steve knocked on your door at the crack of dawn. He was surprised, but didn't think too much of it. You met Sam in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water before making your way to the ground floor and exiting the tower into the cold air. It was refreshing, to say the least. A smile graced your face once again as you made your way to the park. Sam thought it necessary to explain the 'on your left' situation and you were glad. Steve ran ahead of you both. You started off slow with Sam, easing yourself into the exercise. Once you got into a rhythm, you sped up and quickly approached Steve who was miles ahead moments before. "Hey Rogers, on your left!" His face was priceless as you overtook him, a smug look plastered on your face. This continued until you were all satisfied with the miles achieved, making your way back to the tower immediately after. "You got heart kid." He complimented as you exited the elevator. You rolled your eyes as Tony came into sight, a glass of whiskey glued to his hand. 

"Tony, it's 10 in the morning. Could you not wait?" Sam enquiries. Tony chuckled, knocking back the drink before pouring himself another. "Isn't it too early for you to be on my case?" He shot back rather defensively. You were somewhat relieved when Sam took the alcoholic beverage and disposed of it, snapping Tony out of his self-destructive tendencies temporarily. 

You began walking off, eager to jump in the shower to rid yourself of the sweat. The footsteps behind you got closer and a tight grip around your arm stopped you. "Did you put him up to that?" Tony asked rather harshly. You laughed in the least humorous manner. "I didn't do shit, Stark. Let go of me." He refused, roughly tightening his grip as you stumbled back into the wall. "You need to grow up, Y/N." he sneered. "You have no control over me. As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to me,” you announced, wiggling from his grip and walking quickly to your room, slamming the door and locking it. 

You kept your distance for the next few weeks, avoiding Tony at all costs. During dinner, the tension was high and it was clear to everybody you did not get along. If only they knew. Of course, Tony was planning to throw another one of Stark's famous parties much to your dismay. You made it clear you would not be attending. 

"But Y/N, it's the first party since you joined! You have to come, it'll be fun. Please?" Wanda begged. You shook your head. "I don't drink, nor do I like parties. I never have." You admitted. Tony rolled his eyes at this statement. "If she doesn't want to go, we can't force her." Bruce defended you. "Don't worry Y/N, I won't be going either." You sent him a thankful smile before walking back to your room, leaving them to plan. 

A few days later, it was Tony's party. Hundreds of guests arrived, causing the levels of sound to increase dramatically. The DJ let the music blare and the tower practically shook. The whole team dressed to perfection, giving you a smile before going down to the lower level. You sigh, flopping onto the sofa with your laptop as you begin typing out your work. Fury would kill you if you didn't get it in on time. Bruce checked up on you, bringing you a tea and a few snacks to help you focus. He sat next to you, enjoying your company as you spoke continuously about your research. It had reached 11pm when Bruce began growing tired. He politely excused himself, wishing you a goodnight before traipsing off to his room. Many hours later, the rest of the team made their way up. It was clear they were absolutely wasted, their inability to stand was a major hint. You couldn't help but laugh when Clint tripped and Natasha fell down beside him, laughing harder than she usually would. After helping them off the floor, you lead them to their rooms and ensured they were safe in bed before making your way to your room. 

Slipping into your pyjamas, you closed your eyes. Unfortunately, sleep did not come. A loud crash caused you to shoot up from your bed, you grabbed your gun and tiptoed throughout the tower until you found the culprit. Tony was sprawled out on the floor, the glass from the now broken coffee table underneath him. You mentally groaned, you did not want to help him. You knew you couldn't just leave him there. You studied his body quickly, discovering a small cut to his face and hand. Reaching down, you managed to pull him up (with great difficulty) and supported him until you reached the infirmary. Throwing him onto the bed, you grabbed a few supplies. 

"Get away from me, what are you doing?" He asked, slurring each word. "You're hurt, I'm helping you." You told him. Using the tweezers, you carefully took the shards of glass from the wounds. He winced, trying to pull away but you held him down. Next, you cleaned it. He let out an audible groan but all you did was roll your eyes. It was his own fault, after all. Luckily, it wasn't too deep. You bandaged his hand and stuck a few steri-strips to his forehead, closing the small wound. You were about to move him again, when he stopped you. 

"You don't care, why are you helping me?" He asked. You thought for a moment, not looking him in the eyes. "Because if I didn't, who would?" This silenced him. You steadied him on his feet, before throwing his arm over your shoulder as you took him to his room. You lay him softly, taking his shoes and jacket off and throwing his duvet over him. He seemed satisfied as you lay painkillers and water on his nightstand before turning around. Just as you turn the light off, you hear him. "I know you hate me and I'm sorry..." his snores fill the room as you close the door, brushing off his words and making your way back to your room. "Jarvis, wipe all cctv footage." You demanded. "As you wish." He complied. Soon, you fell into a deep sleep. 

Find part 2 here.

#avengers imagine #avengers au #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel insert #the avengers #mcu #tony stark #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x stark!reader #avengers x stark!reader #avengers x reader #stark reader #bucky barnes x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #sam wilson x reader #wanda x reader

[doctor-badadvice]

This man has not updated his wardrobe since 1947

There's already a few posts discussing outfits and symbolism and while I found them very interesting, I'm a person of strong opinions now writing two characters with chess related names. So here's my two cents (or should I say, nickels) about Bishop's appearance throughout the 2003 show and what tells us about the specific moment of his life that's being portrayed. The focus will be mainly on the palette, but also on whatever influences are behind the designs.

So let's get started!

1815 — Battle of New Orleans

Here's the first disclaimer. I know next to nothing about US history past what little school required me to learn and generically speaking, I've never been interested in the nuances of how people come together to kill each other. History classes were far more interesting to me when we talked about society and culture. So take what I'll say with a grain of salt. My military expertise here is a couple Wikipedia pages.

As far as Bishop's uniform goes, I have no idea what's going on. I read that uniforms were supposedly mainly blue with whatever color corresponded to what the unit's duty was, with the exception of musicians who had their colors swapped. If that's true, Bishop here could have been a musician having a not so great day at work. But the field medics later in the flashback are wearing the same color so it's probably just a choice to keep the color palette consistent.

Other than that, the belt would suggest he had some kind of rank. Though I don't think they were trying to be accurate past the bare minimum. I'm not going to guess what Bishop was up to in his mortal days.

Also, a special mention goes to Bishop's facial hair. He must have been popular in his time.

1870 — Creation of EPF

This is where colors start being relevant but first, another disclaimer. I appreciate the work wiki editors do, but it would be nice to have sources to whatever's stated on a given page, especially if you're providing estimated dates. I can't say I disagree, but it'd be nice to know where the information comes from.

So the wiki says that Bishop was supposedly born in 1776. It means that at the time of EPF's foundation he was nearing his hundredth birthday. No wonder he's dressing in all black. The average life expectancy at the time was about 40 years old. It's very possible Bishop had already outlived most, if not everyone he knew and it's probably something one would struggle to come to terms with.

Design wise, turtlenecks were nothing new at the time. Medieval knights wore garments in a similar shape under their armors well before the 15th century. And yes, I guess that's more of a coat than the average tactical turtleneck, but it still gives him a hitman, or even hunter vibe which is more or less what he was up to at the time.

1947 Roswell. New Mexico/present times

I can finally explain the title now. But first, let’s take a step back!

Bishop’s default outfit is the secret agent outfit™ we’re all well accustomed to. Specifically, I think the closest he takes inspiration from is Agent Smith from the Matrix movies (as I previously mentioned here). Guy in a black suit with shades, apparently impeccable self control and a distinctive way of talking that compels you to listen to him.

There’s so much to say about motivations and themes these two share, but let's focus on the aesthetic side.

These two fools are men in black. Yes, like the movies. The whole trope originates from some old conspiracy theories about the US government hiding aliens. These theories date all the way back to 1947 from some guy named Harold Dahl claiming a man in a dark suit told him not to tell anyone about some UFO sightings. Various fellow ufologists made similar claims over the years, making it a staple of their general paranoia.

Because of the second flashback, it’s possible that Bishop himself was one of these men in black, if not the one the rumors started from. It's a funny thought and I feel like Bishop would also find it amusing to watch people lose their minds about his fashion choices for decades.

Color wise, white has been added to the mix. It’s been a while now since the creation of EPF and Bishop has found some kind of balance in his life. He’s still dead set in his hatred for aliens and clearly enjoys inflicting pain on creatures he sees as undeserving of basic human decency, but he now has some purpose other than looking at the sky for something to shoot down. He leads an elite task force with men and funding devoted to developing a proper defense of the planet. He’s a foe not to be underestimated and a formidable fighter who can and will take on multiple opponents. But he’s also a very scared man who doesn’t wish what happened to him on anyone.

I often praise the show because Bishop can survive getting impaled but he still remains human. He will react with sheer violence to aggression and reform his ways when shown kindness. He will happily stick his hands in turtle soup for some DNA, but also be the best man at his friend's wedding and even attempt dressing up for the occasion despite having been deprived of normal human interactions for more than a century.

(I know it's a little cluttered in this point but I can't just leave out Casual Friday Bishop)

Design wise, I like just how an otherwise elegant attire works during the fight scenes and this detail specifically.

This man’s power is stored in the leggy.

Interlude

So this pic above is me right now.

For context, I usually consider the episodes of the staged alien invasion to the outbreak as part of the same arc. The entire situation is absolutely absurd from Bishop dragging the president into his fanfiction in response to budget cuts, to Baxter's bodily misadventures, to Bishop making a deal with a random ghost over the phone while New York is turning into yet another Umbrella Corp mishap.

But anyways we're here to judge this man's fashion taste and we have two outfits to talk about.

First off, a special mention goes to the catsuit and this pose specifically.

The sass is off the charts.

Though I find this one kind of depressing. There isn't a lot to read in it either other than Baxter grabbing the most generic tactical turtleneck for the sake of keeping Bishop from walking around bare chested (and the scene before this pic clearly shows Bishop isn't afraid to show some titty). But seeing him in all black right after moving to a new body kinda points out that Agent Bishop, leader of the EPF, is kinda on par with a piece of military equipment (and the president probably sees him as much to an extent). He's the mold for an army of supersoldiers for crying out loud.

But he switches back to the usual suit afterwards and what matters here is the supersuit.

S3 onward

Imagine being an alien, member of the starfleet of your planet and senior officer of the invading force tasked with taking over Earth. You have trained hard, wargamed the whole operation a bunch of times and concluded that it will be piss easy to conquer this underdeveloped planet.

You reach the surface, get into formation and then this nerd rolls up.

The best way to describe this suit is "hostile". It's hostile to the animators and to whoever has to stare at this eyesore before Bishop shoots at them.

And I love it. There's nothing quite like a black and red suit of armor with various cybernetics and lights to say that you mean business. It goes very well with how the stakes just start steadily rising from this point of the show onwards and seeing as the suit was ready during the staged invasion, we know that Bishop never really planned to retire after unleashing his army of clones.

It adds that extra bit of cyberpunk that I like to see and it shows that Bishop never truly gives up on anything since we have actually seen this design before.

Bishop was so proud of his Slayer he just stuck with him in spirit.

Couple that with a new coat to take off for extra dramatic effect and— maybe the president was right about not trusting him with unlimited budget.

2105 — New York apparently

Another century has passed and Bishop is still alive and kicking. Well, he doesn't kick as much anymore as it would be unbecoming if the beloved president of the Pan-Galactic Alliance were to go around kicking alien butt.

Jokes aside, you can disagree with Bishop's portrayal in Fast Forward, but they were still trying to do something meaningful with him. The idea of the turtles having to work with him when they were trying to kill each other just the other day is surprisingly deep for a season that felt the need to have the most unfunny robobutler ever.

They were clearly attempting a chess joke switching the palette to white with black streaks. Bishop has completely turned his life around and it even shows in the way he presents himself. It's nice to see just how much he managed to accomplish as well, even though it would have been very interesting to see him have a gradual change of mind, rather than selling us the concept through timeskip magic.

Does the design still hold up then?

Well, Bishop is clearly making an effort to look the least intimidating. He is fairly more patient when others don't immediately do as he says, even asking for help rather than blackmailing, and is still commendably dedicated to his job. He still asserts dominance by showing leggy (seriously, Mr President, that slit doesn't have to go this hard) and he's still deep down, at all times, ready to throw hands.

That's Bishop alright and it's no coincidence that he starts running around shooting aliens the second Baxter shows up in his life again. I'm not much of a fan of his new armor though. I think they were going for a futuristic design but it's the blandest they could think of. It reminds me of Obi-Wan Kenobi's armor in The Clone Wars but it just kinda comes out of nowhere. It would have been cooler if his tunic turned into a set of armor kinda like what the turtles got.

In any case, if you really want to see reformed Bishop really shine, you should check out @adenthemage / @violetvulpini 's art. You will not be disappointed.

#tmnt 2003 #agent bishop #oof #this was one hell of a ride #I haven't discussed anything in this length since uni #Tumblr also decided to complain about the number of pics I was adding #hopefully it won't be as much of a pain when I come around to talk about his fighting style

[eviegrmhld]

I had this idea where Evie found a baby in the streets of the Isle and decided to take care of it. Decided to write it down. This is between d2 and d3, almost the beginning of d3.

It's also Jayvie centered cause I'm so soft for them <3.

Sorry for any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language. Hope you like it (if you do, let me know cause I've already written like four parts, got excited lol)

Rescued and Restored - Part One

It was finally happening. Evie's beloved program to rescue all those children from the Isle of the Lost was finally up and running. The Second Chance Program.

After the Royal Ball and Uma's escape from the Isle, there had been several months of preparation. Ben appointed Evie as the King's Counselor, and she had never felt happier in her life. Due to her lack of experience in the field, Fairy Godmother enrolled her in some courses to help Evie learn and understand all the responsibilities that came with being a counselor. It was intense weeks of studying and classes, but Evie managed to impress everyone with her efficiency and organization in this royal position. And when she finally had time to discuss her ideas with Ben, the program for the children of villains was finally ready. She was finally able to make a difference, just as she had always dreamed.

Evie was proving to herself that she was not just a pretty face, as her mother had taught her all her life.

Being the King's Counselor helped Evie financially above all else. The salary was good, and with the profits that Evie 4 Hearts was generating, she managed to make a good deal for her first property. It was a cozy house, spacious enough to live in, host her friends, and work on her designs. It was everything Evie didn't know she had dreamed of.

After all, she wasn't a girl of grand castles. She discovered her love for small and cozy cottages. At least for now.

Jay, Carlos, and Mal helped with the move. Jay practically didn't leave since Evie's first night in her own home. The girl's wardrobe was gradually being taken over by pieces of Jay's clothing. It was the time of rest that both of them needed.

While Evie had all these responsibilities, Jay had now become a coach at Auradon Elementary School when he wasn't helping the blue-haired woman with the details of the villain kids' Program. He had never connected so well with children as he did with his team. The little ones adored him and had enough energy to last the entire week.

They never thought their lives would take such different turns than expected. They never envisioned a life completely free. And now, with the opportunity to offer that to other children, they couldn't be more excited.

"We have to meet Mal at the castle in an hour," Evie said, sitting next to Jay on the kitchen island. The four VKs would be meeting this morning for a discreet visit to the Isle of the Lost. Only Ben, their parents, and Fairy Godmother knew about it. They were going to the Isle to assess the number of candidates for the new project. Evie was eager. She forked a piece of her pancakes and murmured with satisfaction as she took a bite.

"Please tell me Ben isn't going this time," Jay joked, smiling as he saw Evie laugh. "Seriously, I couldn't handle another rescue so soon. I'm still recovering from the first one."

"Mal made sure he stayed at the castle this time," Evie replied, chuckling as Jay leaned in and buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent and giving a gentle kiss to her collarbone. "We do need a vacation, don't we?" She reached up to caress the cheek of the dark-haired boy with one of her hands.

"Desperately," Jay murmured, still leaning against the blue-haired girl. "Let's go to Neverland, or Agrabah..." After thinking about it, he said,"You know what? Let's go to both. And maybe the beach afterward."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Evie whispered, giving him a quick peck before they both returned to their breakfast.

It didn't take long for the four friends to be on the other side of the barrier. Before they began their actual work, Mal reminded them of the task at hand. "We need to attract as little attention as possible. We're here just to observe a sample of children who might be suitable for studying in Auradon. If they recognize us, it's fine, we can be polite, but we can't stay here longer than necessary."

"What about Uma's territory?" Carlos asked anxiously. They were never 100% at ease when they were on the Isle, too many enemies, and especially because it was their second time there without finding their parents. It wasn't something they wanted to do; no one was ready for that yet.

"While we're apart, we'll stay away from the pirates' territory. We'll do our assessment there together," the girl said. "The same goes for any place near our homes, unless you're willing to find your parents."

"Definitely not," Jay said, while Evie nodded. It was too soon.

"Alright, let's get to work then. We'll meet back here in 30 minutes," Carlos concluded, and the four young people separated to observe, talk to the children on the Isle, and learn what they thought about living in Auradon and having a new life.

It was a fierce battle. Half of them couldn't care less about the "land of princes and princesses," but the other half dreamed of the opportunity to be whatever they wanted with the endless possibilities of Auradon. Evie spent the 30 minutes doing just that, and to her relief, most of the children and teenagers she spoke to were excited about the program.

However, the return to the meeting point was not as quick as Evie had expected. She walked calmly and purposefully back to the designated spot when she heard muffled crying as she passed by Enoja's Shop. The daughter of the Evil Queen abruptly stopped to give it her attention. It wasn't uncommon to hear cries on the Isle of the Lost, but this one seemed much more fragile and desperate than usual.

She looked around a few times, searching for a child huddled in a corner but found nothing. That's when she noticed something moving inside a dumpster in front of the shop. Evie's heart squeezed as she walked closer, and the crying became more audible. She looked down, and the scene immediately brought tears to the princess's eyes.

Wrapped in tattered cloth was a baby, inside a trash bag, discarded in the dumpster as if it meant nothing. Evie knew it wasn't an accident. The child was tied and wrapped enough to conceal the living being within the garbage. It was intentional.

"Oh no..." the blue-haired girl whispered, a mix of anger and sadness flooding her heart as she reached out to pick up the baby.

"Evie!" she heard a familiar voice call out, but she didn't bother to look back. Her eyes remained fixed on the baby, who cried louder than ever. "We were all at the designated spot, and you didn't come back. We got worried," Jay said, not yet seeing the child Evie was trying to untie from the trash. "Evie, what are you doing..." He trailed off as he caught sight of the same sight as the girl. Jay furrowed his brow.

"Jay, help me. There's something tied around her neck," Evie's voice was choked up, and the young man quickly approached, carefully tearing apart the dangerously tied cloth from around the baby's neck. He fell silent, stunned, as she removed the trash bag from the small being squirming in desperation. "I just found her. It's a little girl."

"Was she just thrown there?!" Jafar's son questioned indignantly. He saw Evie nod without saying a word as a solitary tear slid down her cheek. She cradled the baby in her arms and sighed, her heart breaking as Evie tried to soothe her.

"What do we do?" Evie whispered, her voice barely audible, as Jay approached and ran his hand through her blue hair. She couldn't bear to leave the little, fragile baby there after what she had witnessed, and Jay felt the same way.

"We'll take her with us," he said gently. Evie nodded without hesitation, and the two of them returned to the meeting point of their four friends. Carlos was the first to notice the bundle squirming in the arms of the daughter of the Evil Queen. Jay's nervous expression didn't go unnoticed by the platinum-haired boy.

"Who is this?" he asked, and only then did Mal notice their friends.

"We're taking her with us," Jay said. "We found her in the dumpster in front of Enoja's Shop."

"Oh my God," Mal exclaimed. "Wasn't there anyone around?" She approached to get a better look and tried to read her best friend's expression, but Evie never took her eyes off the baby. It was Jay who guided her through the streets.

"No, she was wrapped up enough to not survive until tomorrow," Jay replied angrily, and Mal and Carlos exchanged glances, shaken. Nothing more was said. The four of them returned to the car they came in. Evie managed to calm the crying child on the way. She seemed more tired than hungry. And that's when Evie looked up to meet Mal's gaze.

"Can we get a pediatrician to visit her at home?" she said, her voice sounding more fragile than Mal had ever witnessed.

"Of course, E," Mal smiled, tucking a strand of blue curls behind her friend's ear, offering some comfort. "I'll let Ben know and ask him to bring the best."

"Thank you," Evie smiled.

(...)

"Have you drunk the water I brought you?" Jay asked, taking Evie's hands as she stared at the baby lying on her bed, being examined by an excellent pediatrician and two nurses. "I'm talking to you..."

"I had a little bit," Evie finally answered, looking into the eyes of the dark-haired boy. "I'm not very thirsty." Her voice still carried anxiety, and Evie's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.

"Hey, look at me," Jay called her attention once again. "She's fine, we're safe now. You can relax." He pulled her into a hug, and Evie wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's waist, taking a deep breath and releasing all the adrenaline that was rushing through her body, calming down a little more.

"I know," Evie affirmed. "Thank you." She smiled, expressing gratitude not only for his recent words but for Jay's calmness and support when she was on the verge of losing it. He responded with a kiss on her forehead and took Evie's glass, heading to the kitchen.

"Well, Miss Grimhilde," the pediatrician began. "We're dealing with a mild case of malnutrition. The little one has a slight fever due to that. Therefore, for the next few days, we'll continue feeding her with breast milk, along with some regulated vitamins. You can retrieve the milk from our Auradon bank, and I believe your proximity to King Ben will help with the process. We've already brought the milk for today; you just need to pick it up tomorrow." The doctor explained while Evie nodded, paying attention to every detail.

"Can we determine her age?" the blue-haired girl asked.

"With the examinations we've conducted, we estimate that she's only about three weeks old, which makes her survival a miracle," the doctor surprised Evie with her response. "And that also means that the next few days will be a bit challenging. Will you be her temporary caregiver?"

"I believe so."

"Alright, since I already have your contact information, I'll provide you with further necessary care instructions for the baby over time," the pediatrician continued, writing her prescriptions on paper. "I'll also be available if you have any doubts."

"Okay, thank you very much," Evie smiled, bidding farewell to the medical team.

Once Evie was alone with the baby, she sat beside her, getting close to the little one. Now that all the adrenaline had subsided, Evie felt a mix of fear and excitement about the idea of temporarily caring for the baby.

She would never understand how such an angelic being could be discarded in the trash.

She began tracing the small features of the sleeping little being with her fingers. The sparse brown hair she had, her rosy cheeks, her tiny, pointed nose, and her rounded chin. Evie smiled, her heart filling with a warmth she had never felt before. She gently ran her fingers over the chubby little hands of the baby, plump even for a malnourished baby. And as she touched the baby's tiny feet, the baby squirmed as if tickled.

Evie's giggle caused the little one to slowly open her eyes, wriggling. "Oh, sorry for waking you, little miss," she whispered. Evie carefully picked up the baby and cradled her, placing her head against her chest, smiling as she heard the contented sigh from the little girl.

Jay slowly opened the door to the room, only to find Evie singing a lullaby while gently rocking the baby back to sleep. He smiled, quietly closing the door, giving them more privacy.

#descendants fandom #disney descendants #descendants imagine #descendants headcanons #descendants au #descendants #descendants 2 #descendants fanfiction #descendants 3 #booboo stewart #cameron boyce #sofia carson #dove cameron #jay son of jafar #evie grimhilde #mal bertha #carlos de vil #evie x jay #jay x evie #jayvie #jay descendants #evie descendants #core four #auradon #the isle of the lost #descendants oc

[cherienymphe]

I can easily see this movie becoming a favorite of mine. I already knew I would love it because I tend to enjoy Sofia's direction and while I was prepared for a lot of things, I wasn't prepared to witness just how lonely Priscilla was. Just so many scenes of her all alone (even when surrounded by heaps of people) and that just made me so sad. The first time she and Elvis come face to face I wanted to scream at her to run and them casting these two was certainly a choice bc the height difference really emphasized the age difference too and both Cailee and Jacob do a wonderful job of understanding the power dynamics in this situation. Too many times I had to remind myself they're actually the same age irl bc it really felt like watching a grown man interact with a child.

The only criticism I agree with is the pacing towards the end but an argument can be made that it resembles the quickly crumbling relationship irl too. Despite what certain fans of a certain dead man will tell you, Jacob does a good job as him. I didn't care either way going into it bc he's literally not the focus of the movie. It's about Priscilla but if it's one thing Jacob Elordi is going to eat, it's the role of a toxic and abusive man so I never had any doubts tbh. There were too many moments where I thought he was going to hit her bc he's just so imposing and ominous and so many scenes had tension that I was just waiting to see snap.

Wardrobe and set design was amazing and I'm now convinced some so called fans never heard that man speak a day in his life bc Jacob literally nails the accent

#yes I'm reviewing this movie bc for some reason I want to cry even though I haven't cried in like a year #so I'm distracting myself

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Halloween Party 🎃 👻

Eddie would love Labyrinth the movie and I’m not saying couples Halloween outfit from the ball scene but I’m absolutely saying that.

Eddie is like “damn I’m looking like a legend.” And reader comes out telling him “Kay sweetie I’m ready.” And eddie has to spend the rest of the night trying to resist taking her home and going to town on her.

He fails that mission hard.

Anon request, had two requests for the Labyrinth ball scene. I hope you both like this ❤🎃

Warnings; None really, fluff, tiny bits of smut, 18+ hints of Dom Eddie.

I do not give permission for work to be copied or posted elsewhere ❤

🎃����

🎃🍁

Eddie had to admit he looked good. He was dressed as Jareth the Goblin King from Labyrinth and y/n was going as Sarah for Steve's Halloween party.

He couldn't wait to see her outfit, she was insistent that he couldn't see it until she was ready.

He goes back to doing last-minute checks on his outfit. The ruffled white shirt was a bit hard to find, he didn't have anything like it in his wardrobe but he found a good one for the costume.

His long suit jacket was decorated with help from the Hellfire boys who had added blue glitter, and cut the sleeves to Jareth's style in the movie, silver gems were also added to it and he paired it with dark jeans, and his boots and silver gloves.

He bought the Jareth wig and had added blue eyeshadow lightly to his eyes and silver highlighter on his cheeks.

"Looking like a legend Munson". He nods approvingly.

The reason for the couple's outfit was for Steve's Halloween party yes but he also loved the movie. He and y/n had decided on Jareth and Sarah for a couples outfit straight away.

"Kay sweetie I'm ready".

She comes out in a full ball gown style dress, the bodice has an iridescent quality as well as the full skirt, the arms of the dress are similar to the movie, full, puffy and with the same iridescent quality as the skirt and she has tiny little yellow flowers decorated at the front of her bodice with a large silver gem in the middle matching the one on his.

Her hair is backcombed with organic vein-like garlands at the sides of her hair that look like melted silver and silver ribbons interweaved in her hair too.

It's all lace, tulle, beads and glitter and it looks like she stepped off the movie set.

Nancy helped her with the design of the dress and he knows she stitched most of the design herself onto the dress herself.

"You like?" she twirls around and giggles, Eddie is just staring for a full minute and then he moans.

"Princess, there's no way I'm going to be able to keep my hands off you tonight". She smirks. What else was new?

"You look so handsome yourself Eddie". She kisses his cheek.

They are going to fucking rock the couple's outfits tonight.

❤

She knew Eddie was having trouble keeping his hands off her but she wanted to stay at the party for a little while at least.

Everyone loved her and Eddie's outfits, drinks were flowing and they didn't have to worry about getting drunk as Steve had offered them the guest bedroom.

She was very tempted just to follow Eddie into the room and let him have his wicked way with her, her lower stomach filled with arousal at the possibilities.

Still, as much as she wanted that she wanted to enjoy the party first.

"You two look so good". Nancy tells her approvingly, she has come as Daphne from Scooby Doo and the red wig that she has picked was fierce. It was a really good look and she had managed to convince Robin to come as Velma.

Steve was Maverick from Top Gun and he looked so cool.

Eddie couldn't stop touching and kissing her and she teased him right back knowing what will happen because of the teasing, her whole body tingles with possibilities and she can't wait.

As the party slowly begins to die down he sneaks her upstairs and she giggles following him into Steve's spare room and locking the door.

He kisses her fiercely and his lips travel to his neck as he unzips her dress and lets it fall to the floor, he palms her breasts groaning at the feel of them in his hands.

So perfect, his.

"Naughty girl, enticing me all night looking so fucking good. Get on the bed and spread yourself wide for me princess".

Desire rages through her and she obeys him looking at him with unconcealed excitement as he unbuckles his jeans.

"What do I tell you about teasing me sweetheart?". She grins mischievously and his dark look softens a fraction.

"Princess...

"Not to tease you because it's bad? Sorry Dungeon Master". She wasn't sorry at all and Eddie knows it and smirks.

"Hmm what will I do with you, my queen?". With the whole night ahead of them she couldn't wait to find out.

🎃🍁

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

[crazydadd0]

Holis, puedo hacer una solicitud de una S/O que se prueba ropa femenina y muy tierna a escondidas?(soy medio marimacha y me gusta usar ropa de varón, varios talles más que el mío, etc. Pero me gusta comprarme y probarme ropa bonita a escondidas)

Gracias(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) (si dije algo que te incómodo ignorame, no te culpó)

💖Slasher x s/o who secretly covenants. feminine and very cute clothes💖

(I really like this idea!)

(I also love to wear bigger men's clothes they are great!)

(I hope you like it! English is not my language! Sorry for the mistakes!)

Michael Myers

❤️ One day, you and your friends went shopping and saw super cute pink lingerie. You secretly bought it and stuffed it into the bottom of your bag. Completely forgetting to buy it. 

❤️ Two weeks later, when you were taking things out of your bag, you noticed it at the bottom. Actually, it was your lucky day and Michael wasn't home. (He went to murder . Again.)

❤️ Unable to resist, you drew the curtains and closed the doors and locked them, locking the doors in case anyone was watching. (It's not me 🥺👉👈)

❤️ Once in your super cute lingerie, you looked in the mirror satisfied with how nice it looked on you. You smiled at your reflection.

❤️ Come on, you didn't know that, the shadow behind the wardrobe looked perfect for your sweet ass.

❤️ Still unaware, you didn't see the huge shadow approaching you. 

❤️ You let out a scream as you felt huge cold hands on your warm bare hips.

"OMG! Michael! You outdid me!"

❤️ Receiving no response, you stood on your tiptoes to kiss his mask. But don't let you, he grabbed your smaller face with one big hand. And holds it firmly in place.

❤️ You don't understand what he means until you know what you're wearing.

❤️ Frightened, you try to pull back, but Michale holds your body rigidly to his.

❤️ He gently pushed you onto the bed, you fell and you jumped up on him gently from the fall. 

❤️ God, how he wanted to fuck you in that mattress right now. That underwear of yours took the demon out of him. The demon that wanted to touch you so badly it hurts.

❤️ Before you knew it, you were kissing him. He had a mask tucked up his nose and kissed you fervently.

❤️ You could feel his bulge on your stomach.

You unleashed the sex demon with this lingerie, now deal with it. You've got the whole night ahead of you, get ready. 😏😇

Jason Voorhees

💚 I'm sure it's a gift from friends for camp. A gift you didn't open and was waiting for you in the shadow of the cottage.

💚 Jason probably found it and brought it to you because he saw your name written on it .

💚 Tell him where you got it and that I forgot you got it. You open it in front of him and find a cute floral top.

💚 Jason will immediately love the design and soft fabric of the top. She'd love to see it on you, but she won't admit it.

💚 Suggest and he will be the happiest slasher on earth.

💚 I'm sure it will come out when you want to change your clothes. He'll leave and wait until you let him come back and see how beautiful you look. Jason stands at the door like a faithful dog.

💚 Once you let him in, he'll be fussing around you like a lost kitten. Let him touch the material on you and he will be in eighth heaven.

💚 He loved it as soon as he saw you. The whole of you in it looked so cute he felt like he might get diabetes.

💚 Don't be surprised if she brings you more cute stuff like this later.

Bo Sinclair

💙 Now you've got it, you went to town with Lester once and bought yourself a set of dress + lolita lingerie.

💙 She finally had a moment to try it on. It's not like it's been a month since the purchase. But in the end you could try it on calmly and in addition, so that no one would know you were doing it!

💙 Each of the Sinclair brothers were doing something and would be gone for the rest of the day. Thanks to this, you were sure that you and your cute outfit would be safe alone.

💙 Trying it on slowly and carefully as if it were made of flower petals. You were wearing it after all.

💙It suited you perfectly. Come on, you were wearing old clothes most of the time Because now you feel very feminine and cute. Like those dolls you got for your baby's birthday

💙 Too focused on falling gently on the bed.

Gently you laid down on the bed like those beautiful ladies in the paintings. I was like a piece of work. That only one person could touch. And it was Bo Sinclair.

💙 The same person was watching you from the door frame he was leaning on. With a mischievous smile on his lips. He waited for you to take it.

💙 Jak to się stało wydałaś z Siebie nie mały krzyk który na pewno był słyszalny w całym domu.

"Because! What are you doing here! You should be in the workshop! How..? How long have you been standing there?"

💙 You blushed and covered your face with your hands.

"As long as I had to, sugar. Lovely headdress by the way. Suits you. Now, I'll be back in five minutes and you're to lie on this bed naked. Unless you want me to rip off your clothes?"

💙 He left the room, licking his lips at the thought of the feast that was about to follow. The best part was that the treat was you!

#michael myers x s/o #michael myers #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees x s/o #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x s/o #slashers #slasher fanfiction

[warmtoastedbread]

⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌍

Solomon x Witch! Reader

•fluff, romantic, soft pining

•Gn reader They/Them pronouns

used.

•Reader practices Paganism

A/N: Solomon feels a little

ooc? Idk tell me what you think.

Requests are open rn.

• Link to my request board

• Master list

⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⇲⊰⌏

Solomon knew you weren't normal. He found it odd that from the beginning you weren't at all weirded out at all by anything going on. Angels, demons? Meh.

Your presence wasn't normal either. It felt refined and familiar.

And one day he stumbled upon your lucky charms and protective talismans you put in your bag. 'Interesting.' They were hidden in a little black pouch you had sewn into the side of your bag. It was well hidden but still easily accessible. This is why no lower level demons got near you.

These charms where also good quality. It was made with the quality of an intermediate witch. He sniffed the bag and a pleasant smell of herbs and incense came from them. How did you get a hold of these items?

Most witches used sigils as a signature of sorts and the markings were definitely not ones he recognised. They certainly weren't gifted to you by any of the demon brothers either as the quality would be significantly higher.

Curiosity filled his brain as he thought about you. He never suspected you were a practicing witch, it was usually obvious.

Wanting to find out he approached the house of Lamentation with two bags of snacks in hand, one as a peace offering to Beelzebub. If he could see the space you lived in he could maybe get some answers without having to ask. Although curiosity would kill him sooner or later. As he was about to open the front door a certain avatar of gluttony towered over him.

"Hmm? Solomon?" Beel immediately noticed the convenience store bags, "Did Asmodeus not tell you he went to Mojolish for the day?"

Solomon smiled lightly at his assumption,"No actually, I'm here to see MC."

Eyes widening he let's out a little oh and steped out the way to let Solomon in. "Do you know where their room is?" Solomon nods, hands Beel a bag and then leaves as to not watch the carnage about to be brought down upon those innocent snacks.

Walking through the house he followed your light presence. To him it felt like a cool softly fragranced breeze. So it was easy to follow it since it starkly contrasts the presence of the brothers. Yours being like dye in water, tendrils of colour branching out to try reach as far as it can.

Finally reaching the end of the hall, he found a door labeled "☆ﾟ･:*MC*:･ﾟ★". He smiled as the smell of sandalwood reached his nose and the protectiveness of your wards loomed over him. 'How cute.' He quietly knocked on you door to try not startle you"Hey MC are you in there?"

He heard some soft curses and the sound of you tripping. "Solomon??" He heard your voice on the other end. You opened the door, a wave of your presence washing over Solomon like soft cold blankes."Hey, what are you doing here?"

He smiled sweetly,"I though I might surprise you with some snacks and company. Is this a bad time?"

You felt happy to spend time with him. "No not really. Lemme just finish what I'm doing and we can hang out." You stepped to the side and pointed to a shoe rack, "Just take your shoes off."

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ﾟ･:*:･｡,★ﾟ･:*:･

Your room was incredibly welcoming. Not only you but your wards seemed happy for him to be here too. He felt slightly out of place if he was honest though.

The coolness of your room made him feel hot in comparison.

Your room being distinctly you, were decorated with posters and shelves with rocks and dried bouquets.

You had a designated area for everything. It was organised but still somewhat chaotic.

Infront of the door was your messy desk. Hanging plants, pots and little cuttings crowded your desk, along with a little pocket watch you had pulled apart. 'Oh my, that looks old.'

In the far corner was your messy bed, infront was your wardrobe and a folding screen with decorative patters. Then the middle of the room was a TV with a mini fridge stacked with clean dishes to use and a sitting table in the middle of the room. Finally behind the door was a little closed off area, Solomon could feel your soft energy concentrated in that area.

"You can put everything down on the table."

Setting the bag down he began pulling out the contents. "Is that watch not working?"

"Yeah. It's dirty right now so I'm just cleaning it out," you sat down at the chair "I was actually just about to finish putting it together."

You felt him lean over your shoulder, his warmth spreading through you back. Your heart pounded in your ear as you worked to slot the tiny gears into the correct place. Little did you know Solomon's heart was also beating a little faster.

Finally clipping the glass cover into place you wound it up and it started ticking.

You leaned up to look at him."Pretty cool huh?"

He let out a content hum looking down at you with a smile. You quickly felt embarrassed and suggested a movie to watch.

Spending time with Solomon was a ton of fun. You two watched several shows, cracking jokes at the most inappropriate times, and now you two were playing a Devildom version of 21 questions in the dark with some cold drinks in hand.

You giggled at Solomon's story about how managed to get a pact with Mammon.

"Okay my turn." He said sitting himself up. "You're a witch right?"

You looked at him sheepishly, "Is it that obvious?" Solomon nodded. "It's more paganism than it is Devildom style witchcraft that we do in school. They're very similar though."

As you took a sip Solomon spoke up,"I didn't expect that from you to be honest but I guess I also did expect it?" He took a pause to get his thoughts in order. "The quality of your work is very good. Who taught you?"

You chuckled and talked about your grandma and how she taught you. Solomon patiently listened to each word and all the stories you told. Though, each time your eyes would soften at the memories and you would laugh in embarrassment, his heart would soften and he would laugh with you.

You carried on to talk about when she died you inherited her things but your very christian parents did not like that.

Solomons smile widened,"Well, they must not be too happy with you being in the Devildom seducing the seven deadly sins."

You started cackling. "My parents would have a heart attack! And my other grandmother who's Catholic??" You kept giggling.

Solomon's laughter picked up with you, "She'd probably drop dead right on the spot!"

"Speaking of," you interjected. "I'm curious to know about you too."

"Well what do you want to know?" He took a sip of his soda. "Do note I'd have to kill you with certain information so be careful." he added playfully.

You shrugged. "I don't know. Having lived as long as you have, you probably know more about this than I do."

"You mean about Paganism?" You nodded. "Of course I do. I'm older than most modern religions."

"Damn you're ancient." You started laughing.

Solomons smile widened, "Respect your elders child."

"Oh sorry did you need help crossing a road?"

Solomon gasped feigning shock,"You youngsters these days are so disrespectful!"

As your laughter died down your DDD began buzzing. You started searching through the blankets and Solomon had to get up to switch the lights on.

"Hey, Simeon sorry I didn't pick up I couldn't find my phone."

Luke answered on the other side,"It's actually Luke. I don't think Simeon knows how to make calls yet. Um- MC!" The last sentence was set in panic. "Have you seen Solomon? He's not at Purgatory hall and he's not answering his DDD."

You felt surprised. "Yeah he's right here. Do you wanna talk to him?"

You passed the phone to Solomon and for a little bit all you hear is Solomon softly apologizing to Luke. When they finally hung up, Solomon smiled apologetically,"I'm sorry MC. I should go. I don't want Luke to get even more panicked."

"Don't worry about it. This was a ton of fun." You picked up his DDD, it was in-between the couch cushions, and walked him to the door. "Thanks for visiting Solomon. Next time you come make sure Luke knows where your going."

"I'll make sure to do that." And with that Solomon left. His heart filled with happiness as he made his way back to Purgatory hall.

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆☆ﾟ･:*:･｡,★ﾟ･:*:･

#obey me solomon #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #solomon x you #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me #obey me shall we date #visual novel #anime #x reader #fanfiction

[lieutenant-amuel]

What do your ocs give their mothers on Mother’s Day?

Ajhanskdkkd my OCs are unlucky with mothers. Frida has a difficult relationship with her parents generally, Valerio and Matías' mothers are dead, and Ángel's left him and never saw him again after divorce :')

Ángel.

Anyway, I'll start with Ángel. He was just six when his parents got divorced, so I don't think he could give his mother much then. Anyway, he has always been affectionate, so he never missed an opportunity to say how much he loved her and give her warm hugs, and on Mother's day it was just a doubled surge of love. Besides, he always loved cooking with his father, so I imagine them preparing some special treats for Alicia on this day.

When Alicia left, Ángel felt very lonely (and to be fair, he still does) and Mother's day stopper being an enjoyable day for him. He may even get annoyed (although he doesn't show it) with other people having fun time with their mothers on this day, since he can't do it anymore himself. Anyway, he celebrates this day with his extended family (maybe I'll introduce them someday if anyone is interested) and prepares something special for his aunts and grandmother (more likely something crocheted since he crochets, but I can also imagine him arranging little performances for them with his cousins) to be fair, I want to write a Mother's day chapter, exploring Ángel's pain regarding his mother, but I don't know how to do it for now :')

Frida.

Frida has a better relationship with her mother than she does with her father, although they're still not soft enough to each other. Anyway, since Frida is an artist and has a talent for designing, I can imagine her preparing for Cornelia either a painting or a decorated wardrobe item. Plus, they also visit galleries or theater together, since they both admire aesthetics.

Valerio.

Valerio's mother died when he was eighteen, but they shared a very strong bond. There's a story about one of the Mother's days in Valerio and his mother's life, which I won't directly write in my fanfiction (but I think I'll mention it), so I can tell it now. Valerio's mother was a jeweler, and Valerio adored the ocean when he was a child. He loved exploring the ocean floor and one day, he decided to gather pearls to make a necklace for his mother as a present on the Mother's day (yes, he was an adventurous child :'))

So, he prepared everything he needed for his "mission" and was trying to collect the pearls from the oysters, but it wasn't really successful. They either were empty, or he simply didn't have enough air for a deeper diving. Anyway, I didn't really figure the whole story (I'm really sorry for that ×)), but the point is that Valerio was trying really hard to find a needed amount of pearls for the necklace, but eventually, he got just one. He was extremely disappointed and was ashamed that he didn't prepare anything else for his mother on this day, but nonetheless showed it to her, and she was really touched by his wish to make her happy.

Exploring the ocean floor and collecting just one pearl has become Valerio's Mother's day tradition, and with every year he was closer and closer to finish the necklace for his mother, but couldn't, since she died.

Matías.

And Matías lost his parents when he was an infant, so he never knew his mother :')

Those are the only characters I can think about, since they're the mains and developed better than the rest. Anyway, if I remember more, I'll try to update it somehow. Thank you so much for the ask! It was super fun to write <3

#Ask me anything #My OCs #Ángel Suarez #Frida Aakster #Matías Gallardo #I also imagine Emilio having a close relationship with his mother but I didn't think enough of them to come up with anything specific sorry #I have so little children characters akuanskdkkd #Man I forgot Fausto :0 #Anyway he definitely plays violin to Naomi and arranges sailing trips #Valerio Álvarez

[subject-2-change]

28, 38, 49 for the ask game!! ❤️

28. an unusual song that’s your favorite?

Verbatim - Mother Mother. It's a whole ass mood and also makes me think of my D&D character (Scratch)

Hypnodancer - Little Big. It is so silly and maybe my all-time favorite music video

38. what’s the meaning behind your url?

I was changing my AMV YouTube handle after nearly a decade. I put in "Subject to Change" as a placeholder. Never changed it. So it kinda stuck. I love the irony of my online moniker being consistently "subject to change". I will not be changing it. (Unless it is for a bit)

49. what scents do you like?

Classic things like rain and fresh bread. Also the typical sometimes ick things like gasoline and tobacco on someone's clothes. The smell of the pizza at the shop I work at. It makes me so fucking hungry all day.

Very long, specific smell story under the cut: tw death

But the most sentimental smell is this specific vanilla spray that this older woman who owned a vintage shop used. She would spray it on the paper she would wrap the clothes in (in a very careful and specific way) and the smell would last months, lingering in the closet if you kept the paper in there. She would, of course, ask consent of the customer first.

Her name was Nita. She was an incredible woman, talented and open minded. She was an award winning designer. She sold discreet lipstick pipes, she was super body positive, she would design anyone in anything saying her shop doesn't care about gender or sexuality. She was once perusing another shop, and the owner shooed a homeless man out, who had collected solid perfumes and wanted to sell them to her. Nita looked at the woman and put down the hundreds of dollars of stuff she was going to buy, and said, "we don't shoo human beings." She followed the man out and said she'd buy the perfume from him. He said "how much would you pay?" And she said "how much do you need?" Nita had stories like that for all sorts of stuff in her shop (early supporter of small businesses, crazy stories, vintage pieces, etc.) I learned them all when I worked for her.

She was the first job I had after returning to LA post... a lot of life stuff. It got me out of my mom's toxic household. It got me the job at the pizza place I'm at now. She set me up with my partner of nearly 2 years now. I already knew him, but she really showed me just how much he adored me. If I would believe anyone had any sort of spiritual future telling abilities or "sixth senses", it was her. She would read people as soon as they came in. Like she could see into your soul.

Nita had gone through so much hardships in her life. Family was Holocaust survivors. She was living with lung cancer. But she didn't take care of herself enough to be on the transplant list. She kept her oxygen tank hidden behind her desk in the shop. As we got to know each other, I told her about my mental illness. One her brother had. He recently passed. We have the same birthday. I told her I've been on medication and therapy for years, and taking care of yourself is super important. She started using her oxygen tank regularly. After being there a few months, she admitted to me why. "I don't want to be attached to a tank. I'm not weak. But seeing you be so strong, even though you ask for help-- because you ask for help-- it made me realize I need to get my shit together, huh?"

There was one day we were packing up late after a special client had a wardrobe pull. She was exhausted and her oxygen tank wasn't sealing. Any time she'd turn the knob, the air released rather than going through the tube. It was her last one on her. She started panicking, which didn't help. I had 911 dialed in case she passed out, and tried to fix the tank. I managed to rig it (basically this screw wasn't sitting right in its indent, and I manually manipulated it with pliers). She called me an angel and gave me this gorgeous shirt that looks so much like the top for my angelic D&D character (which is very near and dear to my heart).

Nita got on the transplant list! She was due for new lungs. It would be several months, but she was going to get the surgery. I eventually couldn't continue working there because I picked up more time at the pizza place which was frankly just a LOT less emotional labor and I'm not pressured to sell so much as serve. It was only a block away so I'd go in to see her regularly.

One day, it was only her husband and this douchey guy working. He was better than me with sales, but was super pretentious. Like I said, she was an award winning designer. I was the first person who worked for her because I liked her shop, not her name. Nita was at home sick. She had caught covid. It wasn't particularly bad, she wasn't in the hospital, but it wasn't... ya know... good. A few weeks later I found out from her friend (my partner's employer. He looked good one day and she sent him straight there for an interview) that Nita had passed. She was too sick to pass her check up, and she would not be healthy enough for the transplant. It was the first death of someone close to me I had ever experienced. Her shop is closed now.

Her husband gave me a bottle of that specific spray she kept in the back (the last new bottle he had left). As I said, it lasts months, so I still have plenty left. I keep a scented piece of tissue paper tucked into the drawer with my angel shirt. I get to wear it twice a week when I play the character, and it smells of this vanilla buttercream. It always makes me think of Nita.

#answered #ashstrashbag #sorry for the sob story but that one has a visceral answer for me

[taechaos]

A Thriller Film

pairing: director!Jungkook x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere, smut

synopsis: Jungkook's life is his movies, but people don't know his movies are his life. As an anonymous director, no one can suspect him as the villain in a story, but he leaves a clue in his movie about you.

warnings: smoking, stalking, murder, solo masturbation, public fingering

word count: 5.4k

a/n: i don't know why i put so much effort into this but we love to see it flop 🥰

Smoking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Jungkook noticed you for the first time when a cigarette was hanging off his lips, exhaling the stress from the process of organizing a new thriller film with a less than cooperative crew. Fresh out of high school, you were bright and skipping on the sidewalk in the early hours of the morning. What would such a young woman, applying for colleges left and right, be so happy about?

He didn't know you at the time, but looking at you was like a breath of fresh air. While he survived off of coffee and nicotine, you seemed to have a lot of happiness to share. Your smile was incompatible with his frown.

So he ignored you when you passed him with your earphones blasting a song so loud, he involuntarily caught the lyrics.

Fall... back... in... to... place.

The second time he saw you, he was smoking again and you were just as happy as the day before. How can someone be so in tune with themselves, with life? The same song played from your earphones, the one he listened to on repeat after searching up the lyrics: Space Song. An urge to approach you surged up in him, but he only watched you as you walked past him. A single glance from you was all it took to anticipate tomorrow.

Today, when he recognizes you from your clothing first; colorful, silky, gorgeous. So much personality in one outfit, a polar opposite to his casual black outfit in jeans and a plain shirt. Even your bag is eye-catching, and he flicked the ash off of his cigarette before nodding at you as you passed the bus stop, reaching the front of his studio.

Why did your eyes just widen? You acknowledge him with a friendly smile, and go on your merry way. That is until he lightly taps your shoulder, and you turn instantly.

"Hey," he greets before you can utter a word, "where are you always rushing off to?"

Your lips part in surprise; the man you secretly - guiltily - side-eyed for the past few days noticed you when you weren't looking? "I have an interview. Well, a few," you chuckle.

"For what?" he tilts his head curiously and takes another drag from his stick.

"Career counseling," you plainly reply, but it sounds enthused. "I'm a clueless graduate." Your hands clutch your tote bag before you discreetly check the time on your wrist. You're going to be running late soon.

"You interested in cinematography?" Smoke follows his words, but you aren't fazed.

"I'm interested in all forms of art, why?"

He notices you checking your watch again. "I'm a film director. This is my studio," he cranes his neck behind him. "You can apply for an internship here. Maybe for a stylist even," he points at your floral romper with his chin as his eyes trail.

You shift your weight on your left foot when his stare flusters you, and you consider his flattering suggestion for only a second before saying, "thank you for the offer, but I need to go now," you grimace sheepishly, "can I think about it?"

"Take your time," he reassures with a sly smile and inhales from his stick, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of your perfume alongside.

He doesn't look away when you walk off with a shy wave, entranced by your struts until he's called back in. It's with newfound inspiration that he's inside of his studio.

The storyboard of his upcoming project needs a few tweaks, and he doesn't fail in enhancing his crew with a different idea.

It’s been a week. Okay, it might’ve been shorter, but Jungkook is impatient. Besides, it didn’t help when he saw you holding hands with someone... so less than. It really baffled him to see you with a guy who wore such shabby clothes. He looks like the type that Jungkook would cast for a flop character.

The two of you are like a toy display across his studio in that cutesy, obnoxious café with a smoothie in the middle of your booth. He chuckles as he lights up another stick when he notices the two straws in the single cup. Cliché, cheesy, but cute in a childish sense. Your age shines through the amateur romance between you and that loser.

It especially shows when you look to the side with a laugh and lock eyes with him; so flustered that you gasp and focus back on your date. What makes you so shy about seeing him? You seemed so confident during your conversation two days ago.

He whistles when he notices a stray dog in an alleyway. You look at him as well but don't hear anything beyond the glass wall, but it catches his attention regardless. He whistles again before saying in a hushed voice, "come here girl." It's difficult to suppress a smile when you gaze at him questioningly, as if trying to decipher his words. "Naive little girl," he mouths as he smokes, "what are you doing with that boy?"

He almost chokes when you take out your wallet in front of a waiter; are you paying for him? That's why you ordered one drink - so you could share? Jungkook isn't cruel but, he finds it laughable that your boyfriend is so... unappealing. He can't help but wonder why you're with him; maybe his face? The boy is somewhat handsome, but he only has his facial features to go by. It's rather strange for Jungkook to think about this in the first place, so he gets back inside his workplace after harshly shooing the stray dog away with a stomp of his foot.

"I'd like to start my internship today."

Jungkook runs his eyes up and down your body while leaning against a brick wall. "Paid?"

"I-I'll do it for free. Besides, I don't know if I'll even work in this industry," you twiddle your fingers while smiling up at him. He intimidates you, but this morning you decided you did enough thinking and here you are, an aspiring stylist all of a sudden.

"Get inside," he nods at the door before stubbing his cigarette and following you to his studio. "You know what you're going to do?"

"I'm going to decide the outfits, right?" The place looks cozy to you, with its minimalistic interior design and blunt switch between the stories. The first floor is strictly for business, with lined up cameras, lights and a microphone. There is even a green screen! And the second floor seems to be more of a resting area with its couches and open laptops, but you can't make out much from the entrance. Jungkook starts walking ahead of you, making a beeline for the black stairs. You tail behind him and smile at anyone who notices you, which isn't a lot of people. It's not crowded.

"Right. We're still working on a storyline, haven't finished it yet so it's possible this project might not be published. You with me so far?" he glances at you, and at your firm nod, continues, "when we finish planning, scripting and shit, you come to play."

"So what do I do now?" you innocently inquire and watch him plop down on the red velvet couch. He clicks on the space of his keyboard to light up his screen.

"I have an idea for a character, and I want to know how you would design her," he vaguely explains as he scrolls through his document.

"You want me to sketch it or explain?"

"Let's hear you out first. Irene," he suddenly calls out loudly.

"Yes?" a female responds from downstairs. You see a woman with a grey cap look up at him, her attire nothing short of casual.

"Come here."

She skips a few steps while climbing up the stairs at his command. You're not awkward when you greet her, and she offers a coy smile.

"This girl - what did you say your name was?" he asks you. You tell him and he continues, "she's going to be our intern. I want you to critique her with me."

"What's she in for?" Irene asks before sitting across from him.

"Wardrobe stylist."

Her eyes widen as she takes a second look at you. Your style is definitely unique, but... immature. She has half the mind to not question Jungkook about his choice.

"Okay..." she trails. "I'm Irene, by the way. I'm going to be an executive producer for the upcoming film."

"Nice to meet you," you brightly chirp. "Sir?"

Jungkook smirks at your addressing of him. "Yes?"

"What is your name, if I may ask?"

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, but you may know me for my pen name Shin Dong-hyuk."

Your mouth falls open when you instantly recognize the name. "Wait, what? You directed My Time?" you incredulously wonder aloud.

My Time is a movie that took the world by a storm; it brought recognition to the whole country for its popularity and clever writing. You never knew the name was a pseudonym, however. It's a suspense genre, about the life of a crazed fanboy who is obsessed with a foreign celebrity. He stalks her on the internet, has a fanpage of her and pays a hefty amount of money to strangers to update him on her whereabouts. He's portrayed as a young college student in the story, and inevitably runs out of cash from reckless spending. When she gets into a dating scandal, he goes on a theft spree and flies out to meet and confront her. It ends with her murder when he finds her with another man in a hotel room, and he stabs himself in the heart afterwards. There are a bunch of clues that foreshadow his ending, from his family life to his friendships. It's an amazing thriller, and you researched his name in the credits to find more of his works after seeing the movie but to no avail; there is only one listed.

"That's me," he nonchalantly reveals as if he didn't just give you the shock of your life. "Don't tell anyone though, will you?"

You whimsically put on an imagery zipper over your mouth while trying to recover from your racing heart.

"I don't have a clear outline, but the female lead is going to be naive but charming. She has to stand out, alright? Happy, extraordinary, special."

"We didn't decide on that," Irene butts in with a displeased expression.

"I forgot to tell you, I deleted our previous plan."

"You did wh-"

"What do you think?" he turns to you as he ignores Irene's shrieks. "What color are you imagining?"

You feel nervous when he puts you on the spotlight after revealing his identity. You close your eyes with a deep inhale before answering, "I'm thinking red and green, like Christmas. There should be a hint of white as well."

Jungkook drinks in your outfit before grinning mischievously. "Perfect." All of your colors.

Stalking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Is it such a bad idea to follow you home when it's dark out? He kept you for a long time in the studio, allowing you to dress up a mannequin with all sorts of costumes you had in mind in the backroom. He's certain you had fun with him when you left with a permanent grin on your face.

You live with your parents, and he knows for sure he's at least 5 years older than you. You look about 19, so he's assuming he's only 8 years older.

A small villa with windows all around, he observes, before glancing back at your bedroom. The lights are on and you're swinging your legs with excitement on your bed after you face planted on the mattress. He didn't see you greet your parents before running off to your room, and he can't help the smile growing on his face at your hyperactivity. It was like an instinct to walk you home in secret and he isn't sure why he is still watching you. He should look away when you get off of your bed and heave your shirt over your chest, but instead he steps away from the lamp post to hide from the light.

You're changing, and he can't take his eyes off of you. As if that wasn't enough, you unclasp your bra without even pulling the curtains. Do you know he's there? The thought excites him, and his pants begin to tighten around his crotch. He lowly whistles at you, but you don't hear him again. You do look outside for a few seconds while stretching your arms, however, and he's certain you have a connection to him.

He leaves when you put on your pajamas with the image of your bare tits imprinted on his mind. He doesn't head home first, as the studio is only a few minutes away from your home and he wants to leave you a gift.

When the familiar building enters his vision, he doesn't waste time in unlocking the door and switching on a single dim light. He rushes to the backroom after locking the entrance for a second time and unzips his jeans as he goes. You were here not too long ago, and he can pinpoint exactly where you stood while striding to each corner with purpose. Bending, crouching, leaning, doing just about anything to tease him.

Now that he can imagine your perky nipples realistically, he immediately takes out his length from his restraints and picks up a random handkerchief to pump himself with. He doesn't stop to think over his actions; he's acting on urges, on impulse. Never has he ever done something like this.

He's rather relaxed as he sits down on an idle stool to close his eyes and run his hand up and down his shaft. What he would do to press your tits against his cock while he slides it up and down, smearing his cum all over your lips while you sleep. You would swallow it without a second thought once he finishes in your gaping mouth, and wonder why there's a dull ache in your breasts the next morning.

His breaths grow shallow the faster he strokes himself, the more he thinks about using every part of you for his pleasure while you're knocked out cold. He involuntarily thrusts into the air while quiet moans slip out of his open mouth. Something about how taboo it would be to fuck you while you're unconscious turns him on so much. Would that be something you're into?

The handkerchief is so soft, so silky against his length, he can almost imagine it to be your hand. He starts twisting his hand around his cock, from the base to the tip as his other hand palms his balls before he begins to reach climax. Strings of cusses fall out of his mouth when he quickens his pace, the fabric against his skin resounding in his ears before he finally spurts out his cum into the cloth.

"Fuck," he exhales as he coats his makeshift glove with his release. White on white doesn't make much of a difference, and he's panting as he folds the handkerchief to rub it evenly so it sinks in completely.

He leaves it on the stool after zipping his pants, and his eyes twinkle under the moonlight on his journey home.

You aren't alone when you walk to work. Jungkook is taking his usual smoke break while watching you swing your interlocked hands back and forth with the guy next to you. Your smiles exude the same aura, and Jungkook sarcastically notes how compatible the two of you are. The boxy grin shines with the sun, but it doesn't hide the boy's worn out clothes.

"Good morning, Jungkook," you greet before introducing your boyfriend. "This is Taehyung, Taehyung meet Jungkook. I'm going to be under his wing until I decide my major."

"Hello, Taehyung," Jungkook coldly says before blowing smoke in his face.

Taehyung scrunches his nose before chirping, "hi!" He then turns to you and whispers, "I thought you wanted to study medicine."

You shake your head dismissively with a light laugh before responding, "it's just an internship." You let go of his hand and bid farewell with a peck on his cheek before going inside the studio.

"Well, have a good day," Taehyung smiles as he's about to leave before Jungkook holds out his hand to block the way.

"Taehyung, who is your girlfriend?"

"Um," he furrows his brows before saying your name.

"And who are you?"

At Jungkook's blunt question, Taehyung pauses and takes a step back. "What do you mean? Like my full name?"

"No, who the fuck are you? What is your contribution to society? What do you do for a living? What are you wearing?"

"Sir, I-" Taehyung's stammering is cut short when Jungkook asks, "how much money for you to stop leeching off of her?"

He scoffs, "excuse me? I'm not leeching off of anyone, and I'm sure as hell not breaking up with her for your money." Taehyung's face heats up from the shameless confrontation, and he starts walking in the opposite direction.

"So you're not going to leave her?"

Taehyung doesn't turn to look at him as he emphasizes, "no."

"Good."

He abruptly stops in his tracks. "What?"

"Your dedication is admirable," Jungkook comments with a shrug. "I'm satisfied with your answer."

"Were you testing me?"

"Bingo."

He starts chuckling before shaking his head. "I always knew directors were crazy; you scared me for a second."

"Where you headed now?" Jungkook smoothly switches the subject, but notes the fact that you've spoken about him to your boyfriend.

"I have a farm two blocks away." When Jungkook raises a brow, he explains, "I stayed the night with her, so I decided to drop her off before leaving."

"Want me to drop you off?"

It's a kind offer, really, but Taehyung is still put off by the insults thrown his way just a minute ago. Doesn't he have work to do anyway? "That's alright, thank you, but I'll just take the bus. Have a good one, Jungkook."

Jungkook doesn't stop him as they both wave goodbye. He doesn't bother putting out his cigarette before going inside.

Where would be a farm only two blocks away from the city center? It has to be a lie.

You're wandering around the place as to not awkwardly wait for Jungkook who sharply inhales at the sight. He calls your name.

"Yes?"

"What do you want to become?"

"I," you look at him funny with a laugh, "I still don't know."

"Then take a gap year."

Your brows shoot up to your hairline. "Why?"

"I want you to be invested in this project completely. Once the planning is finished, I'll give you a salary. What do you think?"

He's asking you to work full-time for him. Not as an intern, but an employee and you are beyond willing after only being here for two days. He's a famous director; how can one pass up this opportunity?

"I'd love that."

You noticed that Jungkook has a very unique way of working. You've heard that he's been keeping his crew until late at night, already having an outline for his plot and he's moved onto screenwriting. He apparently disappears randomly throughout the evening after you leave, and you've had some different experiences with him of your own.

He asked you to steal from the wardrobe of his backroom. "Take everything that you'd wear," he said before stepping out of the room.

When you confusedly compiled all of the clothes that caught your eye under your arm, he took them from you and brought them upstairs with a huge grin. "Keep that one," he pointed at the handkerchief you thought about lacing your neck with.

Taehyung's quiet with you. He doesn't respond to your texts, doesn't call you, doesn't come over. You're too busy spending time with Jungkook to check up on him, and it serves as a well distraction when you keep glancing at your notifications. It hurts, especially when your wallpaper is a picture of you and him. It hurts because he isn't with you in your proudest moments when you were with him even at his parents' funeral.

The only thing keeping you happy is casting. Jungkook asked you to make a list of all the actors that would suit his characters after giving you a vague description of their traits. The budget isn't an issue, and you're having so much fun. He makes you forget your worries without even trying.

Jungkook intimidates you, but he's so lovely.

A mere "aspiring" stylist is casting actors for a movie. How many people can brag about that? You almost stumble on the stairs as you quickly climb up with Jungkook's laptop in your hands. He gave it to you for research purposes as he drew a rough storyboard with Irene.

"I made a list," you exclaim brightly. Heads shoot in your direction and you sheepishly grin at your volume. Jungkook's eyes linger on your covered neck; it's almost like a collar.

He whistles and beckons you to sit next to him. You obey and anxiously present your list to the professionals; you have no idea how to go on about this task, and no one guided you. You're certain you look utterly amateur in front of them.

Irene is inspecting your list without hinting her thoughts as Jungkook asks, "who are your favorites?"

"Well, I think Kim Namjoon is um, suitable for the male lead's role and Joy-"

"It's decided then," he claps his hands twice without hearing out Irene who scowls at him.

"You're not cooperating with us," she voices in a complaint, "why are you always calling the shots on your own? These are major decisions-"

"Ms. Bae, don't take any offence now. I'm taking your opinions into accounts when I make these decisions. Unless you have an issue with something, let's not dwell on this, hm?"

She sighs as you stand there awkwardly. She's upset, but stays silent.

"The two leads are Kim Namjoon and Park Soo-young. The team will decide the rest of the cast, thank you," he informs you with a ghost of a smile.

"Of course," you breathe.

You don't know how long it is supposed to take to shoot a film, but surely it's not this fast paced. Jungkook is relentless with his production; there are hardly any breaks in between takes. There are bags under his eyes from pulling all nighters to work on his scripts.

He is a perfectionist and a hard worker, as you've come to find out. You feel bad for the amount of times the actors recited their lines when they didn't capture a scene right in Jungkook's eyes. It was an honor for you to meet these famous people beyond a screen, and you were strictly ordered to do Joy's makeup only. You are her stylist, but the professional one does help you after she's finished with Namjoon's.

"Cut," Jungkook says into the speaker. You're located in a rented mansion outside of the city, but you can't enjoy it when everyone is so stressed. "Start over from line "he's leeching off of you"."

Even actors can't hide their annoyance from having to do a 25th take of one scene. Jungkook pays them enough to go on with this torture however, so they have no room to complain.

They start over and you force yourself to watch them again and again.

"Oh my god, cut!" You can hardly resist groaning yourself. Everyone on set is overworked, and you know the director has it the worst, but it's overwhelming you too at this point. You flinch when your name is called. "Act Joy's lines, will you?"

"Me?" you point at yourself in surprise.

"Go ahead," he urges with a nod.

You have no idea how to act, and it's nervewracking having to do it in front of A-listers. You pick up the script handed to you from another woman and start reading:

"He's not leeching off of me," you pause to inhale shakily; your hands tremble from the heavy stares on you.

"I'm his family, the only one he has left. No one would know if he was gone, and he trusts me to look after him without having to dangle a dollar bill over his head."

This goes on until the final scene, and the retakes cut down to half.

A few months pass, and it is time for the premiere. The movie, simply titled Pretty Girl, easily got a green light for display in theatres, and it's been heavily promoted on YouTube and TV. You are excited to your core, and watching the celebrities walk the red carpet was a first for you. Jungkook easily blends in with the crowd as he once again didn't reveal his real name in the credits, but his pen name is gaining more and more recognition. You have never seen the movie throughout the editing procedure, but you can't wait to see everyone's efforts show on the big screen.

You're dressed fancily because Jungkook asked you to go with him, and the two of you are sitting in the crowded theatre with not a single empty seat to be seen. Even the entrance is decorated in retro style to fit in with the movie's theme! The jazz music playing in the halls reaches your ears, and your knees are bouncing in anticipation of the movie. Jungkook is smiling as he listens to you ramble.

"I can't believe I played a part in this whole project!" you gush with shaking fists. "I met the best director I know, and I worked for him! This all feels like a dream... No one even likes my style, and yet I became a stylist!"

"I love your style," he denies, "even now you have all the attention in the room."

"Pfft," you roll your eyes playfully, "they all think I must look weird. I tried to wear something classy so I don't stand out, but it hasn't been working out."

"Keep it that way, you're beautiful like this."

Heat creeps up to your cheeks at his compliment and you squeak, "thank you."

He doesn't get to relish your flustered state as everyone goes quiet once the movie starts.

The time period is unclear, as the language is modern but the filter is black and white. The first scene is in a bar, a man in a suit eyeing a woman with a date who is an outcast with his clothes. They're washed out and ugly, but he looks handsome with his dazzling smile at the woman.

An involuntary grin spreads across your face when you hear their dialogue.

"I want to touch someone's shoulder to see how they react. Did you see how they looked at me when I walked in here? I think they think I'm your sugar baby or something," Jimin's character jokes with a laugh.

"I know! They're all so boujee, but I'm willing to be your mommy without sugar," Joy winks. They have fun until Jimin leaves to the bathroom and Namjoon's character approaches her, who has been staring at her ever since they walked in. Joy is offered a modeling career, and she accepts after she's told that her fashion only works with her because of how beautiful she is. She's bashful when Namjoon gives her a business card.

Jungkook's film is only over an hour long, but everything is timed so perfectly. His directory is straightforward, and you admire his work until a song comes on.

"That's my favorite song!" you whisper into his ear. It's Space Song by Beach House.

"Mine too," he whispers back.

There are montages of photo shoots, Joy's rise to fame in the modeling industry, but the trouble is Jimin, her boyfriend. Namjoon confronts him one day when Jimin drops her off to her new workplace.

"How can someone so poor be able to court a woman like her?" he asks rhetorically.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Jimin is offended until Namjoon laughs it off and reveals it was a joke. The audience sighs in relief, and all is fun and games until Jimin is brutally murdered next to a dumpster. You gasp at the gore scene and glance at Jungkook, until something dawns on you.

The story is starting to sound familiar. Was this movie inspired by your encounters? Your eyes light up as you give your utmost attention to the movie. The line between reality and fiction is beginning to blur.

Joy goes to Namjoon's house, where the dialogue you first reenacted comes to play. The shots are gorgeous, the script filled with metaphors on poverty and currency, and the romance is sickly sweet. There is a sex scene not long after... Joy forgets all about her boyfriend in the snap of Namjoon's fingers.

You tilt your head when you remember Taehyung. Where is he? How come your boyfriend didn't even show up to this life-changing experience?

Jungkook's hand slides over your thigh out of nowhere, as he murmurs, "do you mind?"

You stammer when his fingers reach under your dress to poke at your panties. "S-Sorry?"

"I said," he grazes your folds as you tense at the feather light touch, "do you mind if I touch you, pretty girl?"

Your chest heaves as your lashes flutter in a daze, but you nod nonetheless. His low raspy voice already has you clenching your thighs, unintentionally trapping his hand against your pussy. He's gentle, almost curious with the way he runs his fingers over your silky underwear before he moves it to the side. You're shivering with delight and thrill, and you don't take your eyes off of each other as he begins to flick your clit carelessly.

"Looks so pretty on you," he compliments the makeshift choker on your neck. It's his handkerchief you wore for the occasion, unaware that it's dried with cum. He pulls on the knot like it's a collar, and you're entranced. Your pants fan his lips at the close proximity, and he doesn't shy away from slotting his mouth against yours. You quietly moan into the kiss when his thumb starts to rub your clit, and his long finger pokes at your entrance.

"You mind?" he murmurs against your lips, his words slightly slurred as he doesn't stop kissing you. The wet noises are drowned out by the loud volume of the movie, but you can't focus on what's going on.

"I don't," you breathe before he slips in two fingers, exploring your walls with precision. He's multitasking as he circles your sensitive clit, and you're not very experienced in regards to sexual encounters but your hand lands on his hard-on anyway.

"Don't be shy," he chuckles into your neck, "touch it."

You don't know what you're doing when you slip your hand under his pants and palm him over his briefs, but his sigh is encouraging you. You're touching each other in a room of 100 people.

It's embarrassing when his free hand joins yours to help you touch him while simultaneously fingering you. He must have sensed your lack of confidence, because he starts to stroke his erection over your hand. You start to imagine his fingers as the real thing, and with your particularly low stamina, have a hard time suppressing your whines.

"Kiss my neck," he suggests as a solution to your nibbling. You didn't even realize your nether lip is bleeding from how hard you were biting on it. You bury your head in his shoulder and start pecking his neck. He holds back a laugh at how shy you're being, and he feels proud for predicting this moment perfectly in the movie. Joy is having the time of her life with Namjoon, unaware of Jimin decaying in the attic.

He quickens his pace in your cunt, and you bite him rather harshly at the sensation. He hisses with a chuckle; he likes it when you're impulsive. He can pick up the squelches from his thrusts because of how wet you are, and you climax all over his fingers in a matter of seconds with a whimper. You're twitching in your seat, and your hand strokes him faster but he stops you.

"In my studio," he says and you nod tiredly against his shoulder. The issue isn't that he doesn't want to cum in his pants, but the movie needs to become reality. He wants to fuck you on that one stool, with Taehyung's corpse decomposing in the backroom.

Jungkook always adds a pinch of fiction to his stories, but they're mostly based on true events. If you paid attention to the ending, maybe you would've realized that.

Lying is bad, but there are worse things in life.

#bts imagines #bts fic #bts scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #yandere bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook #jjk smut

[dragonotaku-justineverything]

Coco tells jaune she doesn't like his wardrobe so she asks him to take it all off, Jaune complies but doesn't realize shes making him strip. Once done she says that while she doesnt approve of his clothing she does approve his body

When Coco told Jaune that she'd help Jaune with his wardrobe, Jaune at first thought it was strange.

Well actually, at first he was a little insulted. What's so wrong with a hoodie and jeans!?

But then, after Coco explained that she just meant he could look much better with certain clothes and she wanted to help him find those clothes, he was grateful and took her up on her offer. Although Jaune had to admit, he wasn't sure what he expected exactly.

But he knew for a fact that going to her dorm room instead of a store, seeing SEVERAL curtains and mounts of clothes upon entering, and being told to undress right there in front of her as she looked for which clothes to start with definitely wasn't it though.

"Y-you want me to undress... right here?"

Coco huffed and turned around, tapping her designer boots impatiently. "Yeah! Now stop wasting time, I think I got my work cut out for me here and the sooner we get started, the better. Maybe we'll be done before the end of the day."

"B-but... isn't that a bit... I mean, shouldn't I change somewhere el-Furph!?"

Coco cut him off by throwing one of her first choices for a shirt for him over her shoulder and hitting him in the face. "No, because it's a waste of time to have you go back and forth between the bathroom and here. I'm not going to spend more time than I have to waiting around for you to change. Besides, I prefer girls."

Jaune finished pulling the silky, black button up T-shirt off his head just in time to hear her say that. He looked at his upperclassman, surprise clearly on his face. "Oh! Wow... I uhhh... didn't know that."

Coco leaned in towards the younger man and lowered her sunglasses so she could look at Jaune over the top of them. Jaune immediately saw her eyes were completely cold and calculating as she asked, "Is that going to be a problem freshie?"

Jaune shook his head rapidly. "No no! My oldest sister is actually into girls too! Married to one in fact! S-so... n-no problem here... ma'am."

Coco lifted her glasses back up and stood up straight. "Good, didn't feel like kicking your ass today. Now, clothes. Off. We're burning daylight." Coco finished her command with a pointed finger at Jaune, and turned around to keep looking at some clothing options for him.

As she shifted through some hangers on the rack in front of her, Coco heard the sound of clothes rustling behind her. Honestly, she wasn't even fazed. Her biggest passion was clothing, both wearing AND designing it. To do the latter, she'd had to see plenty of bare bodies to get the measurements perfectly accurate. She had seen all kinds of body types, both among civilians and hunters in training. She didn't have any reaction as she heard the sound of his shirt being pulled off or his belt being undone. She was pretty sure anything he had to show wouldn't shock her.

She grabbed a few hangers off the rack and spoke up. "So we're going to start with some darker colors, they usually fit well on anyone. Put on that shirt I gave you and th-"

And then Coco turned around.

Well... she certainly hadn't been expecting that body...

As Jaune shyly looked at his upperclassmen, the woman felt her mind race. 'The fuck!? I thought he was supposed to be a noodle! That damn hoodie is a bigger crime than I thought!'

And let it be known that Coco Adel was never one to NOT voice her thoughts on something. "Daaaaamn freshie, you're really a surprise wrapped in baggy clothes aren't cha?! Lookin' good!"

Jaune looked off to the side a little bit, a light blush rising to his neck and ears. He balled up his hoodie in his arms and tried to somewhat cover himself. "U-ummm thanks..."

Coco lowered her sunglasses, getting a better look at Jaune's bare top half. "Seriously, nice core~! You do a lot of crunches?"

"S-sometimes. I-I usually do a few sets... whenever I work out. C-could we please move on now?"

Coco pushed her glasses back and shrugged. "Sure, if you want to." With that Coco walked over to the bed next to Jaune and placed the hangers and the clothes on them down on the mattress. Before she went back over to the clothes rack, she looked sideways at him one last time for good measure. "Just saying, you're looking pretty hot."

"T-thanks. B-but I thought you said you... preferred girls?"

Coco didn't even turn around. "Yeah, I did. And I do prefer girls. Doesn't mean I can't find a guy's bod sexy too. I like both, I just have a preference."

"Oh.... o-oh..." Jaune's blush grew much stronger as realization hit him.

"So like I said," Coco turned her head just enough to look at the younger man. "Looking hot."

Jaune quickly started putting on the clothes Coco laid out for him as she went back to fixing up some trial outfits. As she did so, her mind wandered a bit. She found herself thinking back to the reason she approached the frantically dressing boy behind her in the first place.

'I guess you're in for a nice surprise Bun Bun~. You really know how to pick 'em well. Aaaand I think I know what I want for payment after you two get together~. Maybe all three of us could have some fun~.'

How did you guys like me adding a GIF for reference in the middle of the ask? I wanted to try something new. Should I do it some more in the future or not?

#rwby #jaune arc #coco adel #jaune x coco #strut and stumble #french roast #ask #sfw #anonymous