#i worked on this pose for like. an hour before deciding it wasn't gonna do what i want it to do

[xitsensunmoon]

My first ever comic con! And first cosplay too. Of course it's gonna be my boy :] Ramblings about the process are under the cut(Let me know if?? You would want me to elaborate with process images for any of the steps?)

The costume took me forever to make, as I've never done any machine sewing, sculpting, fabric dying or spray painting before but learning all of these was so fucking fun!! I never realised just how many different skills go into making a cosplay but it was so worth it!!!

Almost all of the clothes(except the hat) were purchased first as bases, but all of the detailing was added by me. All of the fabric used was originally just scraps that I was given for free so I needed to learn how to dye and dye all of the stars, they were originally white.

The sewing machine was its own beast that brought me tons of frustration from the lack of skill and knowledge (it was devastating to find out that 95% of fuck ups were my fault and not the machine's lmao). But as a result, a hat sewn from scratch, all of the fur trims, embroidery on the corset, stars and the collar(which is very hard to see on the pictures unfortunately) was all added manually. The stars and the stripes(on the back of the cape) were attached using heat-and-bond adhesive (I WISH I knew about such thing just when I started working on this. It would save me so much time and nerves.)

Then I found out about polymorph(mouldable plastic) and it has become the next thing I wanted to learn, to sculpt the claws and the fangs(yes, they're handmade jfksjs). The claws I then primed and painted in trillion coats because I wasn't satisfied with the colour of the spray paint. The fangs I moulded to my own teeth and then stained with tea to match the colour of my teeth :)c

As for makeup, I used Mehron Paradise water activated paints. At first I wanted to try to save money and bought myself Snazaroo instead, which unfortunately turned out to be a waste. Snazaroo didn't hold on my face for longer than 2 hours, cracking and peeling awfully. Mehron on the other hand survived 11 hours of me smiling, talking, emoting and such and didn't even crease at the smile lines(I'm actually shocked about that). It obviously works like any other makeup which means your skin texture and wrinkles won't go anywhere but Mehron's elasticity pleasantly surprised me. It did obviously smear from sweat and saliva(if you're eating and licking your lips) but if you don't touch the skin it just dries again, self setting. But if it's dry it's fully smear-proof. Highly recommend!

And last but not least, I've decided against painting my hands as it was very risky that I will stain everything I touch at the smallest hint of sweat. So instead I got myself gloves-tights(? Not sure how they're called but it's made from the same fabric as tights) and painted them with normal acrylic paint(did you know you could dye fabric with acrylic paint? I personally didn't), then heat set with an iron and voilà, they're reusable, my hands are not stained after an exhausting day and I don't stain everything I touch. It worked wonderfully which honestly was a surprise as I was really sceptical that acrylic paint will somehow stay in place.

I think this whole thing took me minimum of 6 months with big-big breaks for my school and life in general. But I'm really proud! This project taught me so many new skills and I couldn't have been happier about learning new knowledge, even if it sucked to fail in the meantime.

Everyone at the con was really nice and gave me a large confidence boost even tho it was my first time and I had no idea what I was doing. Taking photos with other people was really awkward/new for me as I hate cameras so I really had no idea how to pose/behave in front of one. But that's okay I think. This whole experience definitely made me want to do this again, so I think that will come with experience. Thank you for reading this far, hope you enjoyed this little summary :)

[raiiny-bay]

idk wip i guess

[yoyoyokii]

It all ended too soon

Law x Reader. sadness... 💔

doing this instead of an essay? maybe.

A CLASSIC LAW ANGSTISH MOMENT UHM I CANT WRITE HAPPY ENDINGS SORRY SO UHM... I wasn't even gonna do a decent ending but i got told off for making it too brutal so...

ENJOY (maybe)

1.9k words tyvm 😤

༺｡° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° ｡༻

You can’t sleep again. It’s 5am now, or so you can assume by a quiet rustling in the kitchen, signalling that Sanji must be awake. You haven’t properly slept for over a week now and it’s given you enough time to memorise the entire crew's routines. Sanji is the first to wake up at 5, Brook also wakes up at this time but just kinda stays in his room for a while. Robin moves out at 6, Zoro and Nami 7, Usopp 8. Franky is the last to walk into the common room at about 9. Then there’s Trafalgar D. Law, the one person on the ship that you were never meant to get so used to, that you were trying so hard to keep unfamiliar.

Key word, Trying.

But how could you not know everything about him? When it all happened so naturally… When one day you were fighting alongside each other as allies, simply as part of a formed alliance, and the next you found yourselves entangled, both in body and spirit, beneath the stars. It was all too much of a cliche for your liking, but you have to admit that it was an enjoyable one.

In a restless fit, you peel the covers off of your body and sit up. Law sleeps beside you. He lays still, undeterred by the bed's sudden movement. You watch with sunken eyes and a heavy heart as his chest gently rises, gently falls, and then gently rises again. It’s unfair how peaceful he looks like this, how he sleeps so beautifully while you suffer alone through the darkness of the night.

He’ll be gone again come spring, but this time you’ll probably never see him again.

It’s not like neither of you didn’t know it was going to end like this, you were aware of it from the start. Law’s the captain of Heart Pirates and you’re a Strawhat, the odds were never gonna work out in your favour.

A soft sigh escapes the lips of the man resting to your right and you decide to get up before your emotions catch up to you. You cringe at the way the bed squeaks as you stand up, as you move to pull on the nearest jumper in your proximity before heading to the door.

Before walking out into the hall, you take one last glance at Law. The bare skin of his shoulders reflect the dim glow of the moonlight that has seeped through a small gap in the curtain. It’s as if he’s sparkling, he seems almost unreal, unworldly beautiful, yet he’s never looked so human. So vulnerable. 

Leaving the room and closing the door ever-so-quietly, you tiptoe to the kitchen in search of some solace. 

“Hey love,” Sanji looks up at you with a concerned smile as you enter. He’s standing by the stovetop boiling some water with a hand lazily sitting in his pocket, “still can’t sleep, huh?”

“Nope,” you move to lean against the kitchen counter, sighing. A frown pulls downward at your lips as you watch the cook move to get a mug, putting together a warm concoction of caffeine, just for you.

Sanji hands you a fresh cup of coffee. It sits within the palm of your hands. It’s entirely too hot and borderline painful, but you’re too drowsy; your mind is too hazy to care. 

This has all become a part of your daily routine; you spend hours being tormented by your own emotions, then when Sanji wakes up, you meet him in the kitchen where he’ll make you coffee and then beg for you to talk about what the hell is up with you. It isn’t the pink pilates princess 5 am perfect IT girl routine you wish it was, but it was familiar enough by now to be comforting. You also simply enjoyed Sanji’s presence. You had a good friendship with him, he never told anyone about your business and you never told anyone about his.

“This is eating you alive, isn’t it?” He poses it as a question as he turns to prepare a coffee for himself, but really, it’s more of a statement.

You nod. It’s like the past few months have been a weird lucid dream and now that it’s almost time for you to wake up, you don’t know how you’re meant to face reality again.

You take a sip of the coffee, it burns your throat on its way down and it’s painfully bitter but it’s your own doing. You told Sanji, the first time you came to visit him so early in the morning, that you wanted it black with no sugar, as if you wanted to use it as a form of punishment. As for what you were punishing yourself for, you never quite knew.

“I’m just so scared of this all ending,” your eyes begin to glisten beneath the fluorescents of the kitchen and you bite the inside of your cheek. The white-knuckle grip on your coffee cup threatens to break the handle clean off.

“Sweetheart, you’re doing a great job of keeping it all together for Law's sake, but you can cry, it’s okay.” He says softly as he steps closer to you, taking the mug out of your hand and placing it down on the counter beside you before capturing you in a hug. It’s gentle, full of concern, and you lean into his warmth, desperately needing the comfort. It’s a gesture of acknowledging that he understands and it’s something that he’d never let the other crew members see. It’s something he’d keep just between the two of you.

“No. I promised myself not to cry until he’s gone,” you squeeze your eyes shut, protesting against the tears threatening to escape as you continue to utter into his chest, “what kind of selfish person would I be? We both knew this could never last.”. He doesn’t respond, he just holds you until your breathing becomes more even. Sanji knows you won’t listen, he’s tried, but god knows you are too stubborn for your own good. Your intentions were always too pure and you always let them hurt you in return.

He comforts you like this for a while, only pulling away when the sounds of someone else waking up begins to echo through the ship’s halls. He takes a step back and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder for a moment before turning away to prepare breakfast.

…

It is Spring now, and it’s time for Trafalgar Law to return to his crew.

You’ve all stepped off of the Thousand Sunny to say goodbye and you can’t quite focus on what the rest of your crewmates are saying to Law, or how they are even reacting to him leaving. You should probably be consoling Chopper, seeing as he looked up to him so much, but you don’t have it in you to take a single step forward, let alone think of the right words to say to the small reindeer.

You only snap back to reality when you notice everyone has turned to look at you. You still feel detached from your own body as you let your feet take you over to where Law stands. You stop just before him, tilting your chin to look up at him.

You try to speak but every vowel clings to the back of your throat, and with every breath, it feels like your tongue is choking you out.

How are you meant to compose yourself, when he looks down at you with the only eyes in the world that knows the true depths of your heart and soul?

“It all ended too soon, I'm sorry.”

He finally breaks the silence and you force back your tears in an attempt to preserve your own personal vow, opting instead to bite down into your lower lip. As blood begins to draw, and the taste of metallic begins to lace your gums, he steps forward and wraps his arms around you, placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

He is soft, he is warm, and he is everything you could never be.

“don’t be sorry, you aren’t allowed to be sorry.” You say shakily into his chest, “I enjoyed every second of our time together, I’ll never regret it.” your words come out as nothing but a muffled whisper but he understands nonetheless, he always understands.

“I wish I didn’t have to go, but there’s nothing we can do about it” he speaks into the softness of your hair, and although you can’t see his current expression, the dread in his voice was enough to alert you of the sorrowful look on his face. 

“I know.”

There’s a brief pause. He clings to you tighter.

“I have to go.” It hurts for you to hear as much as it hurts for him to say it. His determination to stick to whatever complex plan he has constructed in his head was something you always admired, but you selfishly wish that just this once, he wasn’t so damn smart and calculative. You wish that his stubborn and borderline unkind demeanour would falter for just a second, so that you could understand how he truly feels about the situation at hand. Of course, however, there is nothing to be done, Law is not a man that you can change so easily. He loves you, and you know that, but he simply can’t be distracted from taking the correct path.

He finally loosens his grip on you.

“I know.” You whisper as you breathe in his scent for the last time as his arms fall back to his sides. It takes you a moment, but you let go of him and step back, out of his grasp.

Law can’t bear to look directly into your eyes, the sorrowful look on your face doesn’t suit you and he will never forgive himself for doing this to you. He chooses to glance down at your feet for this next part; the hardest part.

“Goodbye.” He finally says with hesitance. This is all too cruel, in any other life you two were endgame. out of all the timelines to coexist, why did you two have to be in this one?

“Goodbye.” Before you can say anything else he grabs your face and presses his lips onto yours. Your final kiss; it’s heartfelt, it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable. His lips manage to say more than you could ever come up with in an entire lifetime and as he pulls away slowly, something lands on your head. You reach your hands up to feel what it is, it’s his hat. You look up at him, questioning his motives as your eyes finally well up.

“Keep it, for me, please.”

Law takes one last sombre look at you and turns around. He walks away and you don’t stop him, this is just how it has to be. He begins to disappear from your line of sight and you fall to your knees in an emotionally exhausted heap, your heart feels as if it has burst inside your chest and you finally let your sobs take a hold. You watch as his figure finally fades into the atmosphere, clutching desperately onto the leopard print fabric of his hat, the only physical thing you’ll ever have to remember him by.

You vow to never love anyone again.

[stickthisbig]

I have no idea what this is but I decided to write down my grand theory of Star Wars and how authorship affects the ways in which stories are good and bad? Come for media critique, stay for the analogy at the very end about how Star Wars is like college, also there's gifs

The original trilogy is a series of derivative works. That's not a pejorative, but a description of their content and structure; they are constructions that use existing pieces to tell a new story. They are samurai movies, they are meditations on Joseph Campbell. They are the work of a film nerd trying to create a story that is Everything. There's nothing novel about the storytelling of the original trilogy; it was just particularly well executed, because they were made with love by a craftsman, surrounded by a team who kept him from giving in to the worst of his narrative excesses (most notably but not limited to Marcia Lucas).

There's a lot of No Reason in the original trilogy. Why's Darth Vader so strong in the Force? No reason. It doesn't have time to delicately explain everything, so it relies on the audience's understanding of the shape of the story to fill in the gaps. It's the time in the story for someone to fall in love, so a romance plotline it shall be. The author is trying to do something, and he successfully does it.

The prequel trilogy represents an older creator for whom derivative works were not enough, who had been creatively stifled by the very thing he created. (I strongly recommend Patrick H Willems's series about Frances Ford Coppola if you want a really interesting take on George Lucas and the tragedy of his career.) Extremely importantly, they represent a creator with almost unlimited cash and no one to tell him to tone it down.

Everything that is bad about the prequel trilogy is because they were made with a vision by a creator who was trying to do something. George Lucas has six hours and fifty-eight minutes of material prepared about diplomacy, representative democracy, and how all unchecked power is always all bad and by god we are all gonna sit here until he finishes it. The writing is so clunky because it is not there to build character or relationships; it is there to convey information. The sequences with the Gungans are such a mess because they're the injection of (very inadvisable) comic relief into a story that is not supposed to have any relief at all.

One of the worst sins of the prequel trilogy is the rejection of No Reason. It continually poses questions that do not need answers and then takes pains to answer them. Why's Darth Vader so strong in the Force? His mother conceived him as a virgin birth because of the Force, by way of midichlorians, which as we all know are the powerhouse of the cell. It is such a deeply unsatisfying answer, but George Lucas seems incredibly sincere about the fact that this is important. He is trying to position his derivative work within a new fandom context that conceives of his work as wholly original, and the wild thing is, I think George Lucas always thought all of this and just wasn't allowed to put it in. Improbably, the problem is not that he hasn't thought enough about his own lore, as a common charge goes; he appears to have thought about it way too much.

I have to confess to not being a prequel trilogy fan, but probably the single biggest thing to come out of it is Obi-Wan. Ewan McGregor almost instantly became the canonical version of the character. It's because the same thing that made it bad also made it good. It's a story that is trying to do something, and that is opening wide an almost Stendhal-syndrome-esque array of locations and people and stories. Fuck yes I want to hear everything about the person Alec Guinness used to be when he was young and badass, tell me everything about the weird desert guy. Of course I wanna go to Space Italy and see what the galaxy was like before it got dicked up. Sinister rise to power of Darth Vader's master? Check. Seeing the evil enemy built as a series of actions is the shit prequels are made for.

When the prequel trilogy is boring, it's because the pacing is fucking awful, especially in Revenge of the Sith. The dizzying array of new stuff is never boring, and you can all fight me on Kamino being one of the best planets in the whole series. When it's good to be in George Lucas's mind palace, it's extremely good. For better or worse, he did it. He gave his almost seven hour lecture, he said what he had to say, and he left.

And then we move forwards in time, into an era of Star Wars as a strategy rather than a story.

(I didn't see Solo, so it's not gonna be in here. Neither are any of the TV shows or the EU, because I have other shit to do with my life.)

The Force Awakens was not the first Star Wars film that was made by someone else; the authorship of The Empire Strikes Back is complicated- George Lucas kind of managed to ghostwrite his own movie?- but he definitely didn't direct it. Empire was very much still a Lucas production in which he was intimately involved.

The Force Awakens has a point, but it ultimately doesn't do anything.

It resets everything back to the start: an evil empire represented by British people in suits come to power; three heroes arise; a mentor who's incredibly important apparently despite only knowing the heroes for five minutes is murdered by a cloaked Force user; something is blown up. It is meant to stoke the fires of nostalgia, and it provides nothing substantive in terms of plot. In fact, it represents a retrograde movement. It is a very fun watch and a movie with absolutely nothing to say, at least nothing that wasn't written into the series thirty years beforehand.

It's not a surprise that, since it's just meant to get people hype and then serve them what they already know, the best thing it provided were its new characters. I was so stoked to see a Black person in a Star Wars movie; we got three new main characters and not a white man among them?? But let's fuckin' table that shit, because we all know what's coming.

[I was gonna put in a Kylo Ren gif but he looked like such a dipshit in all of them, you're welcome]

Actually I lied, I forgot that what came next was Rogue One. The purpose of the film is to make a war movie about Star Wars and like many/most war films, what the movie is trying to do is meditate on the duality created by the futility of war and the value of sacrifice, it fills in a blank in canon but is really a tone piece meant to make you have feelings and reflect, I watched it once and it was so touching and horrible that I've never been able to watch it again, 10/10 no notes

And then we have The Last Jedi, which is weird.

The Last Jedi represents a step back to a craftsman at the helm, and the exact same shit happened again.

It shouldn't have, because it happened again in a completely different way! The Last Jedi is a singular vision with one creative direction, and that is the cause of everything that is bad and everything that is good about it, but Rian Johnson wanted to do something radically different than George Lucas. He's not interested in giving you his Star Wars lecture; he's interested in breaking Star Wars open, thrusting it bodily in a new direction. The Last Jedi represents at least as much movement as The Empire Strikes Back.

So it's not like a shock that the movie was wildly divisive, and lists of the best and worst things are the same items shuffled around. I honestly think Admiral Holdo's death is the finest moment in the entire trilogy, in terms of visuals and in terms of emotional impact. I fuckin' love that Luke was sitting on PTSD Island sulking, because it's some Luke shit to do. "Let the past die. Kill it if you have to" got me HYPE to see where this would go. I wanted to go on that ride. I've loved Star Wars since I was a tiny child, and I wanted to go on a journey into something that was entirely fresh.

Other people hated all of these things, and honestly in this case, I don't agree but I can't say they're wrong. Wanting Rose to be deleted from the series simply for using oxygen is racist. Wanting Snoke to have had more impact on the story is a difference of opinion. Either you were interested in this ride or you weren't, and you're not a bad person for not wanting that out of your Star Wars.

But on the other hand, it's not a very good movie.

The problems that make it not very good are the result of having one guy at the wheel. It's clumsily made. It feels like it ends three times before it actually does. The Canto Bight sequences are the work of someone who doesn't want them to be in there, and somebody who could play ball would have finessed the story to make them organic. Some of the CGI work represents a lapse in professional judgment. The Force dyad stuff does not make any sense at all, because it plays like somebody who couldn't really explain a thing they were doing but refuses to stop doing it.

It's so good when it's good. I just wish it had had another screenwriter who could have fixed what was bad.

I didn't care for Rise of Skywalker.

By the time it came out, I was experiencing a kind of numbness surrounding Star Wars; not literally, because I got my tattoos finished up just before it came out. I didn't have any idea what was about to happen. There were a lot of rumors circulating about the extent to which things had gotten rewritten, but it was pretty clear that whatever it was going to be was fully an Abrams/Disney thing.

And indeed, this time, they did make a movie that tried to do something. Extremely unfortunately, what the movie was trying to do was reinforce the status quo. It did this on every level- Holdo's sacrifice was made meaningless, the minuscule amount of queer content was palatably deletable, a woman of color's lines were given to a white man who was buddies with the director, the story reverted from "everyone's a Star Wars" to "there are only four people in the galaxy who matter", Poe's awesome storyline from the comics was thrust aside for a frankly kind of racist replacement, every bit of story development from TLJ was cast aside. There are no consequences for anything, because all that matters is moving to the end of the story; I cannot believe that absolute motherfucker made me watch Chewbacca die with my own eyeballs just to wave it away literally two minutes later in the clumsiest way imaginable. In the prequel trilogy, in Rogue One, in TLJ, everything everyone does matters so much. The minutest actions have huge consequences. In Rise of Skywalker, nothing matters even a little bit. Everybody just waits around for the main characters to get finished dicking around.

I cannot believe that it's a thing I would possibly think ever, but the only thing that got any work put into it was Kylo and Rey's relationship. Trust: I didn't enjoy watching it. There's a piece of Wishful Drinking where Carrie Fisher and Billie Lourd are trying to figure out if Billie is related to the guy she's dating, due to a bunch of Hollywood marriages. Even after the shitstupid reveal of Rey's parentage, it still really, really feels like the same vibe. But by the time they kissed, I was like, "Yeah, I mean I hate it but I see where it happened."

Star Wars is like the end of a semester in college. The prequel trilogy is the period where you're studying, trying to cram so much stuff into your brain that you're never gonna remember. The original trilogy is exams, exhilarating and rocky but ultimately liberating.

The sequel trilogy is the party you go to afterwards. At 10 PM you're at The Force Awakens, singing along at the top of your lungs to a song that's catchy and doesn't have to be good. At midnight you're at Rogue One, where you break down sobbing in the bathroom. The Last Jedi is 2 AM, weird and full of promise, as if anything could happen.

The Rise of Skywalker is 11 AM the next day, when you've already broken down the details at brunch and are now lying in bed unable to nap, with the horrible certainty that this is all there is, you will never be more than yourself, just a regular person who carries no special importance.

I didn't like it in real life; I sure didn't want it from Star Wars.

[echo-echo31]

Domestic One-Shots | Illinois x Heist

MASTERPOST | Based on these prompts

10. Doing the laundry.

Warnings: Suggestive

His boyfriend isn't so relaxed about this.

For Markus, the laundry was a simple task. Working nights, as it were, meant that he rarely had to keep up apperances with his choice of clothing. Plus, nearly everything he owned was a shade of black. Due to this, washing his clothes simply consisted of throwing whatever pile had accumulated on the bedroom floor into the machine and pressing start. Sometimes he even threw a detergent pod in there as well.

"Markus?"

He hears his name posed like a question. Having been on some all-night mission, Markus gives some non-committal noise from where he is lounging on the sofa. Apparently this isn't enough for Illinois, as moments later he hears the thud of feet on the wooden floor and something block out the light seeping in through the blinds.

"Remember when you said you'd wash my shirts?"

Out of either tiredness or rebellion, Markus decides not to raise his gaze at this moment. Instead, he sighs, trying to find an excuse that might make his boyfriend take pity on him.

"Listen…I've just got back from an all-nighter. I'm tired and had to take a 3 hour detour to get the cops off my back. I promise I'll…" Markus' words trail off as he finally looks up at Illinois, and the issue becomes clear.

Well, he wouldn't really call it an issue. In so much as seeing his boyfriend bare-chested and a little mad in front of him wasn't something he felt particularly annoyed about.

"Well…hello, handsome,"

Illinois scoffs, clearly not impressed with Markus' attitude towards this particular problem.

"I've literally got no more clean shirts for work, Markus. Because you said you'd clean them…so are you gonna rectify that?"

Markus considers this, before a smirk creeps upwards on his lips.

"Well, I can think of a few ways I could make it up to you,"

[catholicdaredevil]

Imagine sending Foggy some nudes while he’s working on an important case

bestie the way that i want to gobble him up

this is an a reader wearing an afab-ish set of lingerie there are no specific body parts described or gender but a 'set' specifically which i think is usually considered afab even tho anyone can wear it gender/sex-wise

-

he was supposed to be home hours ago. when you'd put dinner on the table for two, glasses of wine and all. he was supposed to text you if he was gonna be late. but your phone sat untouched, not a single text or call, on the table next to you where you sat. it took only twenty minutes for you to realize he wasn't coming, that he'd forgotten to tell you too.

he never did this, not really. there'd been maybe three times including this one that he'd forgotten to even tell you he was gonna be late. it only happened when something really serious came up, which is why you let it slide. he was a good boyfriend, a great boyfriend, so it was easy to give him these small allowances.

so you ate dinner, your dinner. drank your glass of wine, and packed his up for him. tucking them into the fridge with a small sticky note saying you loved him and just because he was late didn't mean he had an excuse to not eat something. washing the dishes and setting them in the drying rack to finish out your own night, if he wasn't gonna be home anytime soon you might as well go to sleep early. catch up on rest that you miss more often than not.

lights off, doors locked, you change out of your clothes from the day. there's a moment when you hesitate, decide whether or not you wanna make foggy's night a little harder for ditching you. the decision is easy, it's always fun to fuck with foggy and this is your favorite way to do it.

it's not hard, to get him riled up like this, just a nice matching set. blue is his favorite so blue it is. it's feels nice to get dressed up like this, checking your hair in the mirror while you adjust the straps and lace on your skin. you climb up into your bed, fluffing your white comforter under you and getting posed into what is, while vaguely uncomfortable to stretch your back like this, perfect.

a few snaps of your phone camera later, and you send them off before climbing under the covers, content to fall asleep while foggy suffers at work.

-

foggy's phone buzzing is the first sound he hears other than his own thoughts in four hours. it jolts him out of his focus, he's been glued to his laptop since 2pm, minutes ticking by slowly while he goes through page after page of bleary boring paperwork. it's probably getting about time to head home, he knows it's date night and he promised he'd be home for dinner.

dinner that was.... two hours ago.

fuck.

he grabs his phone off the table, unlocking it to shoot you the longest apology text he can write when your message pops up on his screen and he almost fumbles and drops his phone in surprise.

"is everything okay fog?" of course matt's here with him, of course matt's here still, matt doesn't have a loving partner who's been waiting on him to get home. matt doesn't have dinner sitting on a table somewhere getting cold while he works, and most importantly, matt doesn't have lewds on his phone screen in the middle of the office.

"uh-um, yeah of course, um." foggy barely chokes out the word, eyes scanning down then up, down then up, each time getting stuck on different spots. its blue. god damn it, it's blue. blue is his favorite. and if his decision wasn't already made at the sight of the time, it was certainly made now. "i'm late, i gotta go."

"right now?" matt's brow shoots up while foggy piles all of his stuff into his bag haphazardly, his papers are going to be all out of order and crumpled and probably bother him the next day. but that is a problem for next day foggy, today foggy is gonna go home and apologize with his words. and then, if you let him, his hands, and his mouth, and his cock.

"yes, right the fuck now." on instinct he stops walking by matt, leaning down to kiss the top of matt's head. "bye!"

as he's running out the door he hears matt call out through laughter, "is this because of whatever photo they just sent you?"

"right you are again matty, i'm gonna go have sex." foggy replies, slamming the door to nelson and murdock behind him on his way out. already sending off a series of texts to you, hurried apologies and promises for what he'll do when he gets home, what he'll do to you when he gets home.

at home you lie in bed, only moving when you hear the familiar ding of six incoming texts, one right after the other and you smile knowing exactly what they say.

that foggy's on his way.

[trueshellz]

Tokyo Revengers and Bratty Behaviour

Warnings: sending racy pics, growly boys, spanking mentioned, neck holding and body caging,

Summary: Tokyo Revengers boys when their girlfriend is being a bit of a brat...

Note: I actually had this planned before the Haikyuu one since it stemmed from my Kink Collab but I couldn't get my head around Hanma and he took a bit too long.

Draken

You were bored at home, sat at your desk you were finishing some work for college while your boyfriend was out with his friends. He had been out this morning after being late waking up and having to drag Mikey out of bed, leaving without saying goodbye or giving you a kiss before leaving the house. You finished your homework, stretched a little and glanced at your phone hoping that he had replied to your message.

You: Hey babe, you OK?

You: You gonna be home for dinner?

And then you got really annoyed, growling at his lack of responses and being left on read until early afternoon.

You: Are you alive?

You: I'm going to drive your bike into a river.

Throwing your phone onto your bed, you went into the bathroom to have a quick shower and put some clothes on before you went food shopping. When you came out and tied a towel around you, your phone still had no notifications. Drying your hair and making it damp, but not dripping your sat on the dresser and posed in front of the mirror to take a picture. The towel just held across your chest pressed against your breasts, thigh exposed as you put your leg up and your tongue sticking out. Grinning as you cropped it, sending it to him and getting dressed, you watched again as the status went from delivered to read and only glanced fleetingly at the message.

Draken: You're in trouble when I get home, babe.

Hours later, the front door opened and closed with a click and as his heavy steps echoed through the house. His warm body against your body as he pinned you to the worktop. You giggled when his arm wrapped around you body, one banded around your waist and the second around your neck squeezing gently. You felt his warm breath in his ears as he growled at you and nipping at your neck.

"Mind explaining those messages?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't 'hmm' me, brat. I was sat in a meeting when your photo popped up, you're lucky the fucking captains didn't see it. Next time you want attention, just tell me."

Hanma

Watching your boyfriend complete his admin work was boring, it wasn't like him to bring work home but recently he had been less available and that made you a little mad. You peered over the sofa to see him hunched over his laptop, fingers typing as his glasses perched on his face. There were papers scattered all over the dining table as he made a call, you watched his hands thread through his hair in frustration. The blonde and black streaked hair becoming more disheveled as time went one, his growls becoming more apparent each time.

"Shuji, you done?"

"No"

"No."

"Shuji, you hungry?"

You sighed loudly, deciding to continue to watch TV, volume louder than usual just to piss him off, you walked to the kitchen to grab some snacks while you waited. The dress shirt you were wearing (his, of course) riding up and almost exposing your underwear you peered back to see him still typing away. Huffing a little, you bent down to grab some drinks from the bottom cupboard, not finding the one you wanted, making your mood even more sour.

"Shuji, I'm going to the store."

"OK."

"Do you want anything?"

"No."

Grabbing your keys and purse, you started pulling on your trainers when his voice calling your name stopped you.

"Where you off to?"

"The store. We're out of-"

"Like that? Fuck no."

Oh so now he was paying attention.

Turning around with a huff, you jumped a little when you found your boyfriend in front of you, amber eyes peering down as he backed you against the front door. Your breath caught in your chest when his fingers gently traced the exposed skin of your legs, starting from your knee to the lower part of you thigh.

"Either you put some pants on or everyone can see your red ass once I turn you over my knee."

Baji

HERE (NSFW)

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #922: Girl Talk (Sonic)

8:45 p.m. at Amy's House/Unknown Island..........

Amy: (On the Phone Sitting in the Middle of a Sleepiing Sonic and Tails in the Living Room's Sofa) ('Gasps') No way....She did all of that!?

Rouge: (On the Other Line) Mmhmm. First episode of the new season and she already got two sent home.

Amy: Goodness.... I know the show can be competitive, but I didn't think it would be that intense and conniving.

Rouge: (Shrugs) That's the modeling life for ya. You either work your ass off impressive the audience and judges and outshine the competition or cheat your way to the top. No in between. (Places her Other Hand on her Chin) Or at least I don't think there's anyone I know who would do in between......

Amy: ('Sigh') Well, that sums all the reasons why I am not gonna join any modeling businesses anytime soon.

Rouge: Same here, sister. It's too stressful for my liking. That and.....(Gets into a Mini Model Like Pose) I would've already snuff out the competition in a matter of seconds ~

Amy: (Starts Rolling Her Eyes) Sure you can.

Rouge: Aww~ Is that a hint of jealousy I'm hearing, Ms. Rose?~

Amy: Me? Jealous of you? ('Scoffs') In your dreams! (Flips her Quills in a Sophisticated Manner) I'm far too mature for such pettiness.

Rouge: (Raised an Eyebrow) Really. You think just because you're finally dating Big Blue now that you've reached maturity?

Amy: Yep. I mean.....not completely, but I've definitely mellowed out nowadays.

Rouge: Well, you have been less bratty than the time we've first met......

Amy: Hey, I wasn't that bad!.....Was I?

Rouge: Eh. You wasn't the most annoying person I've met out there, but you were pretty love crazy.

Amy: ('Sigh') True......(Suddenly Starts Hearing a Loud Rumble From her Phone) Was that an explosion just now?

Rouge: ('Sigh') Yeah.....Sorry about that. We're finishing up the mission on our end.

Amy: Oooh~ What kind of mission you guys are doing this time?

Rouge: Getting the Emerald before Eggman does. (Starts Sending a Robot Flying With a Kick to the Head) Shadow's fighting him and Metal in the skies, while Omega and I are destroying some heaps of metal in the ground.

Omega: (Blasting Eggman's Robots to Kingdom Come With his Machine Gun Arms in the Distance) WORTHLESS CONSUMER MODELSSS!!!

Rouge: (Turns to Omega) YOU'RE DOING GREAT, SWEETIE!!~

Amy: (Giggles Softly) Aww~ Taking the Mother Hen role I see~

Rouge: You damn right! (Starts Pulverizing a Few More Robots in her Way) Ever since day Omega first sees me as a mom, I stepped up to the plate of motherhood. (Begins Dodging Every Punches Another Robot is Delivering to Her) Love. Every. Second. Of it. ('HIYA')

Rouge gives that said robot a somersault to chin before jumping and delivering the final blow gracefully.

Rouge: (Slowly Floats Back Down to the Ground While Continue her Call with Amy) ('Sigh') It warms my heart sometimes, ya know?

Amy: ('Sighs a Bit Dreamingly') I understand the feeling all well. Looking after the sweethearts and whatnot.

Rouge: (Raised an Eyebrow in a Bit of Confusion) Wait. You and Sonic are having a kid already or something?

Amy: (Eyes Begins to Widened a Little) What? No! I'm talking about Tails and Cream. They've been looking up to me for a while now. (Smiles Brightly) So I decided to take the role of their loving Big Sis. (Gives Tails a Soundless Kiss on the Forehead)

Tails: (Giggles Lightly While He's Still Asleep)

Rouge: (Giggles Softly) Aw~ Guess you've really have grown up after all. Speaking of which, what are you doing right now on your end?

Amy: Watching a movie called Happy Feet. The boys fell asleep an hour ago, but the movie is almost close to being over.

Rouge: ('Ugh') I could use a good sleep right now. The paperwork I had to do earlier was too exhausting for my comfort.....

Amy: Was the papers stacked up like a mountain?

Rouge: Somewhat. I would give you more details, but I'll get annoyed too easily just by thinking about them. ('Sigh') I just wanna come back home, lay down on the bed, and snuggle my handsome Knuckie till the early morning~

Amy: (Rolls her Eyes Again) And you said I was a hopelessly romantic.....You sure you guys don't need any help on your end? I can walk up the boys and-

Rouge: Nah. We're good. The robots Eggman dishes out on us isn't really bad this time aroun-

Shadow: (From a Distance) CHAOS......BLAST!!!

'KABOOOOM'

Eggman: (Starts Blasting Off to the Skies Along with Metal Sonic in the Distance) CUUUUUUURRRRSEESSSS!

'Star Twinkles'

Omega: (Gives Rouge a Thumbs) Mission has been Accomplish!

Rouge: Huh. We finished that mission faster than last time...Neat.

Amy: Cool. Is there like a last world record for doing that or something?

Rouge: ('Scoffs') I wish. ('Yawn') But in the meantime, I better go and get something to eat with my boys. It's tacos night.

Amy: Aww....Do we have to end the call now? Something insane happened at the mall earlier today and I REALLLLY wanted to tell you all about it.

Rouge: You mean about that the brawl that happened over at the shoe store? Oh, don't worry, we'll get into that juicy detail as soon as we get back home. So just be a little more patient, yeah?

Amy: ('Sigh') Fiiine. I'll wait. Don't feel like sleeping yet anyways....Hope you guys enjoy your tacos until then.

Rouge: (Smiles Brightly) Thanks, girl~ Don't let a movie about tap dancing penguins tire you out too easily, you hear?

Amy: (Giggles Softly) I'll try. Love you~

Rouge: Love you too, Rose~ Later~

'Call Ends'

@keyenuta

@cyber-wildcat

@caleb13frede

@ma-lemons

@26shann

@albion-93

[placesyoucallhome]

@koysmods

Oooh, big topic

Gonna be honest, I feel like I still struggle with it, I struggle with a lot of drawing, but I know I used to struggle with it more not terribly long ago. My biggest, most important tip is one absolutely no one wants to hear (and is not directed at anyone in particular except maybe myself):

you 👏 are 👏 not 👏 above 👏 practice 👏

And the best way to practice is figure drawing. There's sites out there that will give you timed figures to sketch, and those are great! But honestly you can also just google 'shirtless male models', especially if what you're looking to understand is leaner masculine figures. What you have to understand while doing figure drawing though, is you cannot spend more than like, 10 mins on each figure. Churn through them, don't fiddle with details, if you don't like it erase or move on.

This is from like, 1-2 years ago now, when I was doing that very thing. I wasn't messing with hands, or legs, or faces, I focused in on arms and chest and that's it. I've done the same with hands, and faces, and legs, but honestly this is the only page of doodles I can find haha. The faster you go, the more you can include, like doing full figures, but there's nothing wrong with focusing on one aspect at a time.

Also don't be afraid to use posing programs. I promise you it isn't cheating. Clip studio has one built in and it's fantastic for those really gd weird poses, or when you're still figuring out proportions between characters, or today foreshortening just decided to be a dick. Your goal isn't to trace over things, but to use it as a guideline, a loose outline of where pieces should land.

These two things are how I taught myself how to draw the male figure, over the course of about 2 years. But if you want more targeted tips-

The male body is far rounder than you might initially think, muscles don't exist in sharp corners after all, things push and pull as much as a feminine body does, they can be just as soft and squishy.

Pecs will probably look like boobs to you for a while while you figure out how to draw them, and honestly they really aren't that different when it comes down to it, just flatter.

Arm muscles have a lot of shape to them! The shoulder down to the bicep is almost a teardrop shape, muscles curve into the point of the elbow.

There's a lot of shape without explicit outline when it comes to abs, practice drawing the shapes, but know that a lot of it can be done with just a little shading.

Study musculature and anatomy pictures, understanding how the muscles lay, where they attach and stretch and bunch up, that's key to figuring out how the more dynamic poses work.

Find the connections. The top of the shoulder slides into the collarbone, the armpit flows into both the pecs and the separation of the deltoid and bicep.

Start with a skeleton, not like, drawing out a literal skeleton, but the block out body shapes, the line of action, focus on a recognizable silhouette

And practice. 90% of my drawings are doodles that take a half hour or less, and yeah I don't post most of them, plenty I don't even save. Just doodle, and doodle, and doodle, that's the only surefire, 100% way to get better. Gotta suck at it before you can start understanding it.

[wanderinginksplot]

Warriors in Red Armor

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Chapter Two

Hound II

79's was loud, dim, and crowded. There were so many people packed into the building that the air inside felt thick and hard to breathe. Any conversationalists had to shout if they wanted the other party to hear them. The main illumination in the room came from accent lighting, flashing spotlights, and the occasional glowing cybernetic.

It was chaos, and Hound loved every second of it.

He had always been a fan of crowds, of feeling the press of civilization. He and Grizzer were similar in that sense: they both thrived in situations that offered plenty of information to take in.

When the three Coruscant Guard troopers had arrived at 79's, they fell into their traditional pattern. First, Thire had tried a cheesy pick-up line on a beautiful Mirialan female just inside the doors. She had given him a pity-filled smile and turned him down. Thire had been unaffected. His pick-up lines had a 0% success rate, but he kept trying.

Next, Thorn had stopped by the bar on the way in. He ordered a Corellian whisky, light on the ice, and ignored Hound's protests that they would get the first round together in a few minutes. Thorn sipped at his drink as they walked to the Coruscant Guard's standard booth.

The Corrie Guard booth wasn't reserved - as if 79's would allow something like that - but no one else ever sat there. That was one of the benefits of always being planetside with a regular presence in 79's. No trooper from another battalion would ever try to sit at their booth, not without an express invitation.

Before he did anything else, Hound got Thorn and Thire stowed at the booth. The former was drinking while the latter focused on thinking up a new pick-up line. Hound then left to get drinks for the party. This was his favorite part: getting to meet people.

With the warmth of amusement filling him at the antics of his vode and the civvies on the dance floor, Hound made his slow, weaving way to the bar. There, he chatted with brothers and civilians alike while he waited for the drinks he had ordered. Thorn wanted another Corellian whisky on the rocks, Thire requested a hyperdrive, and Hound decided on a surly sarlacc.

As the bartender placed the second drink in front of him, Hound glanced at the people around him. To his right were a Bith and a Sullustan in some kind of embrace. Deciding he didn't want to learn any more, Hound turned to his left side instead. There, he found a pale woman sipping frantically at a cup of what he was sure was a blue bantha.

"Hey, no rush!" he called over the pounding music. "They aren't going to run out of booze."

She smiled wanly at him. "Are you sure? Everyone here is drinking like the bar is closing and they want to be hospitalized by the time it happens."

"Lighten up, Ark!" a pretty girl on the stranger's other side called. She slung an arm around her friend's neck, and Hound caught a whiff of Corellian whisky from her glass. "One night out isn't gonna kill you!"

"It might," the pale woman sulked, taking another swig of her blue bantha.

"Another whiskey, handsome," the louder one said to the bartender, adding a wink that made the infamously slow-moving man pick up the pace.

The wheels in Hound's mind were spinning. The two women might end up being an excellent match for Thorn and Thire. His vode had expressed interest in finding hookups for the night. Who better for a loud trooper and a quiet one than a loud woman and a quiet one?

"Hey, how about I buy this round and both of you help me carry these drinks back to my friends?" Hound asked.

The louder of the two grinned at him. "Two hands, three drinks, and a crowded dance floor? Sounds like a recipe for disaster. It's our civic duty to make sure no one slips in spilled alcohol." The quiet woman simply shrugged, which Hound took as an agreement.

When the bartender came to drop off Thire's hyperdrive, Hound ordered another round for the women. He directed the quieter one to carry her own drink and the hyperdrive while he carried Thorn's Corellian whisky and the surly sarlacc.

"Don't trust me to carry two drinks?" the other woman asked with a faux pout.

Hound smiled and shook his head. "I might need you to clear a path and you seem like you can command attention."

With that, she laughed and struck a dramatic pose that made at least two troopers in the area stare. "Follow me!"

True to Hound's expectations, she led them across the dance floor with ease. When they reached the other side, she paused while Hound took the lead to the Coruscant Guard's booth. When they arrived, the other troopers immediately caught sight of Hound's guests. Thorn glanced away and took another sip of his drink while Thire's entire face lit up with interest.

"Hey, guys this is…" Hound paused, realizing with a guilty pang that he had never gotten their names. "... blue bantha and Corellian whisky. These are my fellow troopers, Thorn and Thire."

The louder woman slid into the booth with a laugh, offering Thorn her hand to shake. "Corellian whisky, also known as Kai. Blue bantha is my friend Ark."

"Ark?" Thire asked, standing so that the quiet, pale woman could sit on the inside of the booth. Hound noticed with interest that Thire was watching Ark closely. He would have bet every credit he owned that Thire would have gone for the bubbly Kai instead.

"Yeah, it's a nickname?" Kai explained, mouth quirking up at one corner. "Her real one is too long for easy use."

"What is your full name, Ark?" Thire murmured. Hound could only just hear him over the music, but he was silently begging his brother not to use one of his pickup lines on the poor woman.

"Arkularia," Ark answered with a grimace. "I know it's a lot."

"I think it's beautiful," Thire said fervently.

Ark's pale cheeks reddened and she gave a single nod in thanks.

Hound's amused look was echoed by those of Thorn and Kai. Thorn, of course, took the chance to egg his brother on.

"What's wrong, Thire? Run out of your famous pick-up lines?"

"Pick-up lines?" Kai asked, sounding intrigued.

Ark's cheeks reddened further. "Do they work often?"

"Ehh…" Thire hedged.

"Never," Hound chimed in.

Thorn took another gulp of whiskey. "Not on the sane ones."

Kai winked at Thorn as she loudly said, "I think Ark wants to hear one of those pick-up lines, Thire. Do you have one for her?"

Thire looked at Ark for direction, but she only lifted a pale brow. Defeated, Thire took a deep breath and put on his cockiest smile. Hound counted Thire as a friend and that smile still made him want to hit the man in the face. "Hey, Ark, I've got a problem. I lost my comlink frequency. Could I have yours?"

The group dissolved into laughter and the proverbial ice between the two groups seemed thoroughly broken.

"So, Corellian whisky, huh?" Thorn asked Kai, who grinned. "You have good taste."

"Back at you," Kai said, inclining her glass to connect lightly with Thorn's. "I don't know how they get away with selling this vintage so cheap here."

Thorn's eyes sharpened and Hound fought back a smirk. The alcohol prices at 79's had been a source of much discussion from Thorn over the years, and Hound was glad his brother had finally found someone to share that interest with. Especially since Hound wouldn't have to be part of the conversation.

"Well, I have to go," Hound said, tipping back the last of his surly sarlacc.

"Wait, what?" Kai asked. The sentiment was backed up by the expression on Thorn's face. Thire and Ark paid exactly no attention to his announcement, their interest clearly captured by each other.

Hound shrugged. "I have to report for an early morning shift in a few hours. I need to rest up if I'm going to make a good impression on the good people of Coruscant."

Thorn frowned. "What are you talking about? Earlier today, you told the commander that you would be fine to stay out late."

Hound pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Why, Thorn! Would I ever be so irresponsible?"

"Always," Thorn said dryly.

"I can't hear you over the music!" Hound shouted, too loud even in the din that was 79's. "See you tomorrow!"

He left before Thorn had a chance to deliver a retort, but he noted with more than a little glee that neither Thire nor Ark had noticed him leaving.

---

Ark I

Thire was charming, there was no doubt about it. He had spent the past two hours asking questions about Ark and actually listening to her answers, as if her every word was fascinating. Most men saw her as an easy way to get to the talkative and flirtatious Kai - at least, if they didn't know anything about who Ark was - but Thire's attention seemed fixed on quiet Ark.

"So, what do you do here on Coruscant?" he asked.

Ark relaxed a fraction. Bars and clubs weren't exactly her scene, but her work? She could talk about that all day.

"Kai and I work as part of an information securities team."

"That sounds… really cool, actually," Thire said, admiration in his voice.

Ark felt an odd urge to preen under the half-compliment before her better sense kicked in and she quashed the temptation. "It pays the bills," she said instead, giving a casual sort of shrug.

"What kind of information securities are we talking about here?" he asked, encouraging her to go on.

For the first time in their conversation, Ark hesitated. Ransom always emphasized how important it was to keep a low profile, but this was Thire. Goofy, pick-up line-using Thire couldn't be anyone of enough importance to get them in trouble.

"Well, we specialize in data recovery," she told him. "Lately, we've been branching out into a new service. Businesses hire us to test security measures and report our findings."

"That's awesome!" Thire enthused, and Ark was relieved to see no hint of deeper understanding or curiosity in his dark eyes. "Do you have, like, a team name?"

"It- It's not exactly a team," she clarified, hoping he wasn't going to get condescending. "It's a business. A thriving one, actually. We're called Red Squad."

Thire frowned and Ark tensed. Would he recognize the name? Instead, he gave a broad grin after a moment had passed. "What a coincidence! We're a red squad!"

"Oh, is red your unit's chosen color?" Ark asked politely.

"Yep, Coruscant Guard crimson," he bragged. "Planetary landing squads will try to make it sound like they have the only important job in the GAR, but keeping Coruscant safe is a lot of work."

"You're permanently stationed on Coruscant?" Ark double-checked, trying to hide the surprise she was feeling. It didn't matter - he saw through her attempt to be subtle.

"You weren't expecting me to be around for very long," Thire summarized. His face went polite and distant rather than being warm and friendly like it had been through their previous conversation.

"Not exactly," she admitted, feeling guilty that her thought process had been almost exactly what he expected. "I mean... I know a lot of troopers have to rotate on and off of Coruscant. Is it nice to stay in one place?"

Thire's eyes thawed slightly. "It is, but sometimes I wish I had the chance to see more places. Actively do more good, you know?"

"I think you do plenty of good here," Ark encouraged softly. She wanted to show him that she wasn't some heartless snob who looked down on the troopers who defended her home. "The war may seem far away from Coruscant, but it's only because you and your brothers work so hard to keep us all safe. Thank you for that."

"Listen, Ark…" Thire said gently, but she had trouble hearing him. Instead, loud cheering from Kai and laughter from Thorn stole her attention as they watched someone on the dance floor.

"I don't believe it - a perfect 30!" Kai shouted while Thorn pounded the table with his fist and roared with laughter.

The idea of seemingly stoic Thorn laughing so hard with cheerful Kai brought a smile to Ark's face, but the sentiment was not shared by Thire. Instead, the trooper scowled across the booth.

"Vod, do you mind?" he asked sharply.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," Thorn apologized, waving a hand in Thire's direction.

"Anyway, is it okay if I comm you sometime?" Thire asked, refocusing on Ark. "I'd like to spend time with you somewhere that I can actually hear you."

"Not much to hear, most days," Ark said with a soft smile.

"Still," Thire pressed. "Would that be okay with you?"

Thire smiled at her, the expression lighting up his handsome face, and Ark paused. The evening had been perfect so far, but how would their next encounter go? She worked hard to cultivate the image of a quiet woman whose most interesting traits were tied to her job. Still, Ark had secrets that couldn't come to light, especially around a trooper of the Coruscant Guard. Plus, Thire was a good-looking, charismatic man with skills and interests far exceeding those he needed for his job. He would figure her out - it would only be a matter of time. She should give a polite refusal and keep the memory of this night a perfect one.

Ark opened her mouth, ready to turn him down, but the open nervousness on Thire's face made her pause. She could not reject him. She wasn't strong enough to choose a quick end to their time together.

Instead, she smiled and nodded, fighting a wave of disappointment in herself. She was willing to wring every drop of happiness from their acquaintanceship before the inevitable end. It was dangerous behavior from a woman whose safety relied on secrecy, but she was hopeful that it would be worth it.

---

A/N - So, this story isn't entirely written from Hound's perspective. He just really likes to talk! I promise, the next chapter will feature other narrators, and will introduce the rest of the characters we're missing.

Per request, the chapters will feature individual warnings about potential triggers. If I miss one, please feel free to let me know!

And yes, some of the drink names in this chapter were taken directly from Oga's Cantina in Star Wars: Galaxy's Edge.

[guigz1-coldwar]

"England's Jewel": New chapter for "The City of Angels: Under the Skin" is out!

Chapter Summary: After hearing the news from commissioner Sims, Bell reviews the files he sends her about Maxis & Miss Park before going to visit the latter at the Paramount Studios, Hollywood's heart...

To read it on AO3, click here!

Taglist: @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart, @chrystallenex ------------------------------------------------------------------------

What a day...what a day...I didn't even go out of my own apartment that it was already looking promising & filled with surprises, to be honest. At first, the commissioner gave me the great news about the files I asked him yesterday, the first time since we know each other that he went pretty fast on this, the longest time he took him was almost a week but with him, I know that he was keeping his promises of giving me what I need even if his job is on the line, helping someone like me is risky but always worth it if I'm bringing the results. The other main thing...was this letter from Miss Park...saying so good from me and...proposing me to join her to talk more about this case to the Paramount Studios.

It was a chance for me to talk with her, even if I was still troubled by the love feelings towards her and the need for me to control myself when she's around me so I decided to take it. However, I think I had something else to do before going to her, the files that Sims sent me were needed to be checked. There's much to learn about Maxis' situation but also about knowing more of Miss Park and her past, causing me to take back my usual morning routine...shower, breakfast, and then, I was out of my apartment to cross the street and get to my office.

Sims was right about giving me the files so fast, they were disposed of on the ground just in the front of the door, having surely been given below the door as I always locked down my office. Two files, both with notes telling me which file was on Maxis, the other on Miss Park, the handwritten from Sims with another note saying to me about taking care of myself & not getting killed like always...like always. I posed the files on my desk, took off my jacket, and certainly begin my work to know more about the two...surely gonna take half a day to analyze everything.

My first goal was to get through Maxis' records, trying to know more about this german woman more closely. Full name's Samantha Maxis, her date of birth is actually unknown but must be in her late 20's-early 30's, born in the German Empire, unknown family, said to have fleed Germany in 1940 after an unexplained event near Munich, joined first London before moving to the US, first living on the East Coast in New York and then moving here in Los Angeles 2 years ago after again, an unexplained event...her life is here was pretty simple, she was seeming calm & pretty nice from what the police was saying on her, just a story about a redlight but nothing else until her disappearance a few days ago...there's also something about her...her left cheek showing three scars...nothing was mentioned that from her...maybe one of those unknown events...took an hour at least to work on her file...time for miss Park.

Well, her file was seeming longer than Maxis' one but that's what intrigued me about her, I was having a deep feeling of knowing more about the woman that I have had in my head since I meet her...okay, let's begin. Full name's Helen A. Park, born in Reading, England in 1922...oh, like my own...except that I was born in Chicago, very different. Her family was coming from the middle society, all having links to the military. It is said that she got a short service...into the MI6?...she never mentioned this to me...happened between 1940 and 1944 but she wasn't doing anything important...okay, sounds very...intriguing to say. She left that service that year before starting to be an actress, becoming a little famous in England before it grow big in Hollywood who did its magic on her and now, here we are...a famous British actress who's linked to a criminal case...very, very intriguing.

When I closed down Miss Park's records file, two hours passed after I was taking notes of everything that was said in the official police records and sometimes, trying to have a break by understanding this mess of a case on a dashboard with everything on it...hmm...I wonder how this MI6 story found itself in that file, it's not something that's spoken loudly around. Maybe I should ask Sims this the next time I got the chance to talk to him. Once I was done with all of this part, I realized that the afternoon was almost ending...shit, I need to go to the Paramount Studios, miss Park's proposition.

I quickly put my jacket on, took my working tools before leaving my office to join my car and then, the L.A.traffic, going to drive through the town to reach the movie studios. During my drive, I needed to think about something and that something was about how I was going to enter the movies studios. Did miss Park talk about me going to pay her a visit? Did she not? Well, it's a bit risky of me to go at the front entrance but I wasn't seeing myself sneaking my way inside...fuck me, I'm gonna go in there straight, I'm gonna think of a lie that can help me to get in, pretty sure that it can work.

"It's gonna work," I muttered to myself at the moment the front entrance of the studios was in my sight, seeing from afar the guard post in front of it between the two gates. "It will work," I added as I was pulling off slowly with my car at the gates, stopping it in front of one of them. My eyes were looking around before seeing a guard coming from the post.

"Hello," The guard started, his voice muffled as he was knocking at my window that I soon open right after he was done. "Do you have an authorization?" He asked me, his left arm moving over the roof of my car.

"I'm here to see Miss Helen Park," I replied to him.

"Are you a fan of her?" He demanded in a little laugh.

"No, I'm working for her," I responded, my hands drifting to my right as I took one of my random work files with me about the case and quickly show it to him, not really letting to see what was written on it. "You heard of that boxer manager who hanged himself?" I wondered, staying to the 'official' version of what the newspapers said about the case.

"Yes, Joe Dunn...the guy that was supposed to support Maxis' girl for that match, bets are all going crazy for it," He told me, acknowledging that this event was pretty big... a lot of money to say...interesting. "Even if the guy put a rope around his neck, everyone wants to see that fight," He added.

"Good to know," I whispered with a little nod.

"So...what's the link with Helen Park?" He finally asked me this, curious. "The guy was her lover or something like that?"

"No...it's way complicated but he was a friend of hers & vice-versa," I briefly mentioned, not saying too much on this, adding to this a gesture with my hands to explain myself. "I'm actually working for..." I stopped myself to take a breath. "Well, you know Russell Adler?"

"Yes, he's basically the guy in charge of Helen Park," He revealed to me, proving that Adler can be controlling each action that miss Park does...bad for him he couldn't control her last night.

"Well, I'm working for him, he ordered me to act as a bodyguard for miss Park, he told me that she didn't want anyone near her but you know, security first," I gave up the lie I was thinking along the drive to her...I wasn't lying about working for Adler on that case but the lie is that I was saying to really work with Adler in his group...hope it will work. "I'm not sure that he will be happy to know that she was left without anyone to watch her & bring her back," I assumed to him with a shrug and a smirk, looking threatening in my tone.

"Uhm...you're right,' He murmured, his right hand passing through his forehead before he steps behind him, turning around towards the guard post. "John, you can open the gate, she's with Adler," He announced, giving me the fact that Adler is very well known from the employees here...good to know that. "Have a good day, ma'am,"

"Thank you," I nodded at him, waving at me before the gate in front of my car was starting to open and once they were fully opened, I could enter the famous Paramount Studios...Hollywood's heart to say, the very place the movies of cinemas are made...

I had never actually been there in all of the cases I did in the past, even if it was to visit it like a tourist, I didn't have time to play that role because of my work but today is a bit different, I finally got to visit that place four years after I arrived here, going now for the city's main culture: movies. I parked my car on the nearest parking place I could find before continuing my way deeper into the movie studios, now searching for the precise Studio 13 that miss Park wrote in that letter, her letter that I kept with me in my jacket since I left my apartment.

As I was walking between the sorts of hangars on the main road, I was thinking to enter a world I have never got the chance to visit, seeing an East Coast decor in a hangar and in another one, a western decor...everything can be created in that world, sounds very...full of dreams...that can resume the country, the whole city can be a dream that sometimes doesn't look very good, I know that well. Finally, I found the famous studio 13 and by looking at it, it was the busiest working one with more people than the other hangars...'The English Jewel'...that was written on some furniture around...interesting.

No one minded me when I entered the hangar, all busy doing their things before discovering the interior...the movie decor was looking like a jungle...a sort of temple ruins and by a closer look, I think it wasn't the moment for anyone to make a noise, there were like a scene getting filmed here. By looking closely at the scene, I wasn't able to find Miss Park, just seeing two actors fighting...badly...shit, have to ask for someone where's miss Park, don't want to watch this 'fight' too long. There was a woman standing afar from the group near the scene...gonna ask her...

"Excuse me?" I announced myself in a low voice, the woman directly turning her head at me away from the scene. "Do you know where's Miss Park?"

"Miss Park?" I nodded at her. "She finished her scenes for today, she's in her room before she leaves," She replied to me, soon leaning on her right side to show me a direction. "It's this way, you will see her door," She pointed out behind me, towards access apart from the movie decor.

"Thank you," I said with a smile, preparing to leave.

"Excuse me but you're not from here, right?" The woman stopped me by asking that question...sure that a woman dressed differently from the movie crew and asking questions isn't common.

"I'm...miss Park assistant, I was hired by mister Russell Adler to keep an eye on her," I gave out a second different lie from my first one, hoping this one will work.

"Oh, I see, I'm sorry," She apologized, showing me again the direction I need to take.

"It's okay, I'm leaving you, thank you again," I nodded at her with a small smile before turning to walk away in the direction she pointed at me...damn, really everyone is knowing Adler here, it's surely the best excuse to use to get past through some of the big problems I'm facing...good. Walking away from that scene to get closer to miss Park, what a day, what a day. Okay, deep breath & better self-control, I'm gonna need it now as I was arriving exactly at miss Park's room, her door with her name on it...deep breath, deep breath, self-control..."Here we go," I muttered to myself before I knocked over on the door two times.

"Yes?" I heard a muffled voice behind the door...hers...

"It's...miss Bell, the detective," I declared, my left hand getting positioned over the door handle, ready to open it. "You told me to meet you here for further talks so...here I am," I added, wanting to remind her in case she forgot.

"You can come in," She told me, prompting me to take a breath and then, open the door...the first thing I saw was...her, sitting down on a chair in front of a mirror whose I was able to see myself in it...and her too. "Miss Blackwell, it's so nice to you," She said, her voice meaning it as a smile appeared on her face...self-control, here you go.

"I can say the same for you," I exclaimed, closing the door behind me, my eyelids almost going wide at hearing myself. "I was a bit surprised this morning, I thought that you coming to my place was a dream," I turned back around to face her, her hands at her face as she was holding something to clean her face.

"And as you now believe, it wasn't, right?" She guessed, her knowing well that it wasn't a dream, just affirming it to me.

"I didn't expect your lips on the letter," I said, taking out the letter off my jacket before moving towards her, my right hand holding the letter and showing it to me. "Let me guess...you used a Russian red lipstick?" I presumed.

"Yeah, I love this one...you're very good on this," She affirmed, sounding amazed that I managed to recognize the lipstick she used on it...I don't even remember how I guessed it out, I couldn't have found it like that. I put down the letter on the table in front of her. "Oh, you can keep it, it's my gift for you," She proposed and the blush came back, a little this time.

"If you wish," I whispered, moving back to take the letter back with me before going to lean on the wall next to her, keeping my eyes on her. "So...the English Jewel...that's the movie you're doing?" I demanded, my curiosity having been on this name at the moment I first saw it.

"Yes and honestly, I would have preferred to not be in it, it's Adler who forced me to take the role," She sighed, putting down her thing on the table to look at herself in the mirror. "Playing a damsel in distress before being saved by the adventurer, that's not my favorite thing," She added.

"Why?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Because of the forced romance, the actor who plays the hero is...how should I say?" She started, her eyes slightly going up to think, followed by her right index finger.

"An asshole?" I proposed

"I would have a say...a wanker but yes, an asshole," She agreed on this...not sure that this movie is really great for her by that fact. "He's a guy who's in love for me, Adler got him to play the hero so he can be closer to me...even today, he wanted me to train with him for our final kiss...what an idiot," She mumbled before shaking her head, seeing her hair moves in a beautiful gesture. "Boys aren't really my type," She added, suddenly feeling a big surprise in me...okay..."Sometimes, I prefer the company of a woman,"

"Me too," I said without realizing it, directly turning my head away from her, the blush getting a bit... redder...shit, why did I say that?..."Uhm...yeah..." I tried to say, moving to scratch the back of my head with my right hand.

"I understand, don't worry," She assured me, not sure if it's something to help me in here now.

"Well, that movie is right about one thing if that's the case," I went on telling this like that...I don't even know if I was really saying this to her now. "If that's the case, you must be the English Jewel," I announced in a proud tone in my voice before my hand decide to meet my face...oh shit, did I really say that?...

"Thank you, miss Blackwell, I'm very glad of this coming from you,' She affirmed...not helping my self-control now, I'm holding on but if I can't hold it, I'm gonna end up kissing her right now...keep calm, "Oh...I was thinking of this, I know that I propose you talk more about me & that case and...well, I have to wait for...Adler to come get me by one of his guards,"

"And?" I murmured.

"Well, I don't want to get picked up by any one of them...why don't you allow me to come with you to drive me away from here?" She proposed to me with her gentle voice, my eyes going wide at hearing this...going to my apartment, leaving me a proposition to have a talk with her & now, this?...what's that day? I'm dreaming, right? "So, what do you think?" She demanded, having turned her body towards me on her chair.

"Sounds great, that could help us...me about the case," I answered, giving my approval to drive her away from those movie studios instead of Adler's men doing it.

"Good, I'll grab my things, I hope that you're a good driver like you're a beautiful woman, miss Blackwell," She smiled at me as she was going up from her chair, making me blush again before she walked away, turning her back at me towards a little dressing, leaving me a few moments in my thoughts...oh damn...what's that day?...

Is she doing this on purpose because if she is....damn...that case is very...interesting to say...

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Three [PT.2]

Words: 4.2k

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, mentions of drug abuse

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It's incredibly quiet and filled with tension as Amber looks at Nikki and I, curiously. 

We haven't been to therapy in over a week. 

Nikki hasn't come back to fucking rehab until yesterday and it took me threatening divorce again. 

"Well," Amber starts, smiling at us. "How was your time together?" 

"Good." We both lie simultaneously and Amber raises her brows. 

"Really?" 

"Yep." Nikki says, flatly. 

"Like we're dating for the first time all over again." I add, unenthusiastically. "Exactly how it was when we first started dating. Just minus the sex." 

Nikki huffs out a breath. 

"Jesus fucking Christ, Vivian--"

"--Don't bring Jesus into this. Jesus isn't anywhere to be found in this situation."

"It was one night, Viv, cut me a goddamn break." 

"I've been cutting you a break for the last six years, Nikki, I'm done cutting people breaks. You need to cut me some respect--"

"--Some respect? After the shit you pulled, are you fucking me right now?" 

"No, I'm not fucking you right now, no more than you've fucked me the entire time you've been home." 

"Oh, my God."

I slowly start being pulled from my sleep when I feel a tickle up the side of my foot, my ankle, up the back of my calf then my thigh, my hip, up my spine...I feel my body jolt awake only to be trapped under someone for a moment. 

"Shh, shh, it's just me." Nikki assures me in a whisper, looming over me. 

"Oh," I mumble, sighing when he kisses my shoulder blade. 

I try to go back to sleep but my eyes force themselves open, and I look over my shoulder. 

"Why the hell aren't you in rehab, Nikki?!" I ask him, sharply, confused. "How the fuck did you even get in here?! How did you even know where I live?!" 

"I checked out for a few days so I could see you." He explains. "And Sharise let me borrow her key and gave me directions. I wanted to surprise you."

"You what?!" 

"Wanted to surprise you?" 

I sit up and he falls beside me, stretching out over the bed. 

"You checked out of rehab?!" 

"I missed you and Tommy and Vince missed their girls so we just decided to check out for a few days and visit and then we're going back Monday...like a four month long weekend." He explains. 

"You can't do that!" 

"It was highly advised against it by our counselors but let us leave." He shrugs. "And you know what? I've been back in L.A. for an hour and I don't feel the itch to go party like I used to. I think rehab's working." He tells me. 

"...You checked out of rehab…to come home...and you're going back?" 

"Yep."

"Just like that?" 

"Just like that." 

"Like you won't be tempted to do anything you're not supposed to do?" 

"I won't be because I'm gonna be with you the whole time." He shrugs. 

"You do realize how arrogant you sound right now, right?" 

"I'm not interested in drugs or anything anymore, Viv. I've gotten past that." He states. 

"Nikki," I start. 

"Don't say it like that." 

"How else am I suppose to say it?" I ask, raising my brows, looking at him, pointedly. 

He just rubs his lips together and smirks. 

"I know a few ways you can say it." He runs his hand up and down the side of my leg and I raise a brow. 

"You left rehab to get your dick wet." I tell him, knocking his hand off of me, laying back down. 

"No, I didn't." He denies. 

"Okay, then go sleep on the couch." I suggest. 

"No." He argues. "I wanna hold you." 

"Oh, please, Nikki, we both know what that turns into." 

"What does it turn into?" He asks, knowingly. 

"You know what it's gonna turn into." I state. 

"Vivian, baby," he slides his hand over my hip bone, squeezing it for a second, making my skin prickle and heat up. 

"Don't, 'baby,' me." I can't bring myself to push his hand away this time, I just turn my back to him. 

It's quiet for a moment and I feel him shift beside me, before his lips press to my bare shoulder, then my jaw, then my temple, and I'm rolling to my back, my lips brushing against his, my fingers going to his soft hair, a smile coming to my lips as I say, "couch," and push him away from me, turning back over to face away from him and snuggling into my covers. 

He mumbles under his breath and grabs the pillow from that side of the bed, leaving me alone. 

After a moment of trying to go to sleep, I can't bring myself to. 

I feel like a kid on Christmas morning. 

I pull my blankets off and drag a throw with me as I go to the living room. 

He's taking up the entire couch, and his eyes are closed but I know he's not asleep. 

I crawl on him and he groans, looking at me with furrowed brows.

"Your knee is in my thigh." He grumbles as I try to pull my blanket around myself. 

I just blink down at him. 

"Fine." He winces, sitting up as best as he can, helping me pull the blanket up around my shoulders before he's sliding his hands to my waist and we both lay down. 

I lay my head on his chest and he rubs at my scalp with his fingers. 

"I've missed you, too." I say to him quietly. 

"I know." He replies. "The Sixxter tends to have that effect on chick--ow!" He hisses, tensing up. 

"Oh, sorry, didn't realize your junk was there." I lie, playing off me digging my nails into his crotch was an accident. 

I knew him leaving rehab, even for a few days, posed a threat to his road to recovery. My biggest fear was his dealers hearing he was back. They'd sniff him out and lure him in and I'd lose him again. I couldn't let that happen, and it terrified me to think that it could. But it also made me feel better to see him in a setting that didn't involve stail coffee, therapists, and other recovery patients near by. There wasn't any privacy in rehab--not that we really needed any.

The next morning I'm waking up to the smell of food, good food. Being that I burn most anything I try to cook now (I blame my pregnancy brain), it's nice to be able to smell breakfast without the heavy blanket of charr attached to it. 

I stretch where I've been left on the couch under the fluffy blanket I brought in last night, sitting up and pulling it off of me before going to the bathroom and making myself look somewhat presentable with a toothbrush and a hair brush, hoping and praying that whatever he's cooking up doesn't make me sick. 

I get in the kitchen and see him in front of the stove, and I wrap my arms around him, pressing my cheek to his shoulder blade, and I feel him rub at my arms that are tightly around him, chuckling. 

"Good morning," he says, looking at me over his shoulder. 

I stand on my toes and kiss his cheek. 

"Good morning." I reply, pulling away, grabbing a glass and getting some water. 

I take advantage of him not paying attention to examine any changes. 

I noticed the other day he'd been working out. I see now exactly how much alcohol bloat he's lost, and how much muscle he's built back up. 

His hair and skin even looks healthier, he's gotten his "glow" back to his once pale, sallow looking appearance. 

I reign in my hormones, chugging my water and getting another glass full. 

When he turns around to get the sausage out of the pan and onto a plate, I eye his crotch area, seeing that he's obviously not wearing underwear under his shorts and I'd be lying if I said I don't stare.

"I hope you still like sausage." He comments, oblivious to my eyes on his goods, not even looking in my direction, too busy with trying to get breakfast done. 

"Oh, I do." I comment, taking another few gulps of water, letting my eyes trail down his thighs for a moment. 

Sweet Jesus. 

He is certainly fearfully and wonderfully made. 

"Ahem," he clears his throat and I flick my gaze to his face. 

I've been caught. 

"Whatcha looking at?" He asks me and I shake my head a little. 

"I like those shorts." I lie, shrugging it off. 

"Mmhmm." He doesn't buy it for a second. 

"I do!" I defend myself. 

"I'm sure it's the shorts you like." He comments. 

"Well...I like what's inside the shorts." I blatantly correct myself and he squeezes his eyes closed and laughs. 

"Welcome home, Nikki." He says to himself and I finish my water as he turns the stove off. "It's ready if you wanna make a plate." He offers. 

"Maybe we should give it a few minutes to cool off." I suggest, slowly getting closer to him. 

"Um, I think it's okay." He brushes it off, shrugging, not paying attention. 

"I think we should let it cool off." I state again, my fingers teasing at the top of his shorts, and he looks at me. 

"Get away from me, you freak." He laughs out, shooing my hands off of him.

"Oh, I'm the freak?" 

"You were trying to blow me before therapy the other day and now you're trying to get it in while I'm trying to eat." He points out, still laughing. "I know I'm a lot to handle but just chill out." He smiles, raising his brows. 

"I don't know if you're being serious right now or not." 

"I'm being serious." He points at me. "Now get a plate and let's eat." He adds. 

"You don't want to mess around?" 

"I didn't say that." He states.

"Okay, then food can wait, c'mon," I grab his hand and try to tug him out of the kitchen.  

"Viv," he says as I plant my feet on the floor and use both hands to try to tug at him, my socks sliding against the tile but I try my hardest to get him to move. 

He waits patiently before I'm falling on my ass after slipping, still holding his hand, letting out a breath. 

I let his hand go and lay on the floor, groaning. 

"Are you done?" He asks me, raising a brow. 

"I'm horny." I say it flatly, staring at the ceiling. 

"I can see that." He says, looking between my legs where I feel a wet spot in my panties. 

Great. 

"Nikki, you're being difficult." 

"How?" 

"I wanna fool around, you wanna fool around, we should just fool around. But you don't want to, even though you just said you do." 

"Viv--"

"I haven't gotten thrown around and fucked into a coma in over six months." I blurt, crossing my arms, looking up at him from my place on the floor. 

"...He couldn't scratch that itch after all, huh?" He asks, amused, smirking, and I cut my eyes at him. 

"Because he has morals." I reply. 

"Interesting." He replies. 

We sit in silence for a second, and he nudges me with his foot. 

"Are you gonna survive without jumping my bones?" He asks and I sigh, sitting up. 

"I guess." 

He helps me up and we get our food and sit on the couch while we watch cartoons and eat. 

I notice him staring at me every once in awhile, but I don't pay any attention to him. 

My feelings are hurt, as childish as that sounds. 

It usually doesn't take much to get Nikki into bed, and he's always been up for it whenever I hinted at anything...or blatantly told him I was horny. 

But now things are different. 

A part of me thinks its because he sat down and really thought about the fact I cheated on him.

Maybe that makes me disgusting in his eyes. 

Maybe it's because I'm pregnant--even though I'm only starting to show. 

Maybe it's because I'm pregnant with the dude's baby that I cheated on him with. 

I can see that ruining his libido. 

I just try not to pay much attention to it, but it's nagging me slowly. 

After I finish eating I'm taking my empty plate to the kitchen and heading to my bedroom. 

"Where you going?" He asks me as he puts his plate in the sink, too. 

"Back to bed." I tell him. "I'm really sleepy." 

"Oh," He replies, not looking all that convinced.

"See you when I wake up." I add.

"Yeah, I'll see you then." He says back. 

I shut the door and crawl into bed, wiping the growing tears from my eyes before they even hit my cheeks. 

I wake up a little later and stretch out, hearing the shower running in my bathroom. 

I just lay in bed for a few minutes until I hear it turn off and in a couple minutes, he's coming in the room with a towel wrapped around him, his hair wet.  

He notices I'm awake and grins, coming over to the bed. 

"Hey," he leans over me, pecking me on the lips. 

"Hey." I reply, my voice still tired, his hand running over my side. "What time is it?" 

"Like, one o'clock, maybe," he replies, about to move away from me. 

"Wait, c'mere," I grab his hand and he furrows his brows. 

"What is it?" He asks me.

I don't say anything, just looking at him, and he chuckles. 

He reads my mind and leans down, lips catching mine before his tongue slips into my mouth. 

I softly hum, my hand going to his hair, his hand fumbling through the covers to find my hip and dig his fingers into it. 

My hands soon go to his towel, about to tug it off but he pulls away and catches his breath. 

"I'm gonna go get some clothes on and head to the store to get some things for dinner tonight...you want anything?"  

Yeah. Sex with my husband. 

"No, thanks." I reply, calmly. 

"Alright, I'll see you later." He kisses me one last time and leaves the room and I rub my hands over my face.

"There's nothing to get so pissed off about, Vivian, it's not a big deal." 

"For once in his life Nikki Sixx doesn't want to hump something, even when his own wife tries to start something, so yeah, to me it is a big deal." I argue. 

"No, it's not, it's not that serious." 

"Do you not understand what it's like to be pregnant and hormonal and just wanting to have a good time with the person you love and they don't want anything to do with it?"

"Oh, c'mon, Vivian. Me not wanting to have sex with you doesn't have anything to do with you in particular." 

"Pretty sure it does since you've had no problem screwing other women behind my back when I couldn't do a good enough job." I throw at him. 

"Woah, woah, woah, that was fucking months ago, Vivian, and I was fucked up and sick." He snaps. "And it wasn't because you couldn't do a good enough job, it was because you wouldn't even try to do a job at all. You'd just lay there and be uninterested, like you were just waiting for me to get the fuck off of you. Matter of fact, I distinctly remember you actually saying, 'are you finished yet? I'm getting sleepy.' And I get that you were depressed and in a funk but shit like that happened multiple times, sometimes for weeks, over the course of our marriage. You know how that made me feel, thinking I couldn't even please my own wife?" 

"Oh, God, Nikki, I can't even imagine that pain. Thinking, 'why am I not good enough? Why am I not attractive to my spouse? Why am I not still desired'," I start, sarcastically. "Oh, shit, actually, yeah. Yeah, I fucking can imagine it because I tortured myself with the same questions anytime you chose going out with your buddies over a night in with me, anytime you chose hiding in your closet with drugs over coming to bed, and not to mention the time, gee, I don't know--I found out you had a mistress, who I was friends with, that you would fuck in our house!" 

"Think you got pretty even with me on that being that I found a couple used condoms  that didn't belong to me, under our bed!"

"That can't possibly be my fault being that me and him never used condoms!" 

"You don't fucking say!" He motions to my stomach.

"Fuck this." I state, harshly, standing up and grabbing my purse. 

"Vivian," Amber starts. 

"No. No. No. Fuck you, fuck him, fuck this. I'm fucking done. We tried rehab, we tried therapy, obviously it's not working or he wouldn't have come home and fallen off the wagon!" 

"Ever considered maybe I fell off the wagon so early on because you kept nagging me for days on end?!" He stands up. 

"You didn't want anything to do with me fucking sober, but as soon as you were under the influence of something, I'm suddenly so fucking beautiful and you're wanting to 'fuck the shit outta me'?! Do you not realize how fucked it is that you only want me when you're fucking on something?!"

The next few days consists of me being unable to keep my...urges...barely at bay, all while Nikki has no problem ignoring my hints--more so blunt statements at times--that I'm in the mood. 

He just laughs it off or teases me about it or pretends he doesn't know altogether. 

I just do what I've been doing: being my own lover. 

But there's just some things he can do to me that I can't and it's hard to accept that reality. 

I raise my brows when I peek my head into my bathroom, seeing Nikki fixing his hair, only wearing boxers. 

"Where you getting dolled up to go?" I ask, crossing my arms. 

"Me and Tommy are going out." He tells me and I raise my brows. 

"Oh." I reply, rubbing my lips together. 

I don't know how to tell him I'm having my surgery tomorrow to have my uterine abnormality taken care of...I've been meaning to tell him but just can't. 

I was hoping he'd still be in rehab and wouldn't even really have to know I got it done until later. 

I don't want him to worry. 

"You wanna come with us?" He asks next, grinning at me in the mirror. 

I don't know if that's a good idea." I mumble, that article written about that open letter from those anonymous roadies flashing through my mind. 

"C'mon, baby, it'll be fun."

"I don't feel good enough to go out on the town right now." I admit. "What are you guys gonna do while you're out?" 

"Probably go to the Tropicana or something." He shrugs and I raise my brows. 

"...Oh." 

"Like I said, Viv, you can come with us." He turns and looks down at me and I just smile as best as I can and shake my head. 

"No, I'm okay." I assure him. 

He looks a little disappointed but brushes it off, leaning down and kissing me, wrapping his arms around my waist, his hands smoothing over my ass, and I giggle as he pulls me up to snake my legs around him, kissing my cheek and my neck before hugging me to him, making me squeeze him to me tightly. 

"I love you, Nikki." I tell him, closing my eyes. "I really do."

"I know, Viv." He says back. "I love you more."

"And like always, it's Vivian's fault Nikki's a fucking addict! It's Vivian's fault Nikki's drinking so much! It's Vivian's fault Nikki's so unbearable to be around! It's all that slut's fault because she's a fucking crazy snake-cunt, she-satan that steals, kills, and destroys, and he's left with no choice but to try to numb himself to get outta her grasp!  It's all her fucking fault, even when she's pregnant!" 

I storm out and slam the door behind me, stomping down the hall. 

"Vivian Sixx, don't you fucking walk away from me!" He shouts after me, following me. 

"Vivian Kinston! I don't wanna be a fucking Sixx anymore--I don't wanna be associated with you, you fucked up prick!" I scream back. "Matter of fact, I'm glad I didn't have any of those goddamn kids of your's or else I'd be fucking answering to you the rest of my fucking life!" 

I wake up when I hear the front door open, my eyes shifting to my clock. 

2:00a.m. 

"Fuck," I hear him whisper to himself, dragging his feet to the kitchen…

The sink turns on, a cabinet slams open, a glass shatters on the floor. 

"Fuck." He repeats, cutting the sink off. 

I furrow my brows and sit up in the bed, slowly slipping off the mattress, tip-toeing out to see what he's up to.

"Nikki?" 

"Do you--do you have a broom?" He asks in a slur, motioning to the broken glass on the floor. 

"Yeah, I do." I tell him. 

"Okay, I um, I…" he trails off, eyes on me, drifting down my bare legs, holding his gaze on my lace panties. "...I need it." He finishes, hand reaching down to readjust himself. 

"Have you been drinking?" I ask him, leaning against the doorway.

"A couple shots, nothing I couldn't handle." He replies, walking closer to me. "Something else I can handle, too." He says more so to himself and I take in a breath when his hands grasp at my hips. 

"You smell like tequila." I tell him. 

"It was just a couple drinks." He insists, leaning down, pressing his lips to mine. 

"Just a couple?" I ask when I pull away, and he nods, pulling me back to him, kissing me again, our tongues meeting. 

His hands are tugging at my tank top, pulling it over my head. 

"You're so beautiful." He tells me, licking up my neck and I let out a soft sigh, running my hands down his back, tears in my eyes…

I close my eyes and my mind flashes back. All those times he'd come in drunk or high or both...either telling me how wonderful I am, or wanting to fight…

"Nikki, wait," I force myself to pull away from him as he trails kisses over my breast. 

"What is it?" He asks me, trying to get me close again. 

"You're drunk, Nikki, alright? I don't want to do anything while you're like this." I admit and he just stares at me. 

"Excuse me?" 

"You're drunk. I don't want you to--"

"--You bitch at me all fucking week about your fucking sexual frustration but as soon as I wanna piece of ass you're suddenly too good for me?" 

"Nikki, you're drunk." I state. "I'm not too good for you, but I'm not just gonna be the cumrag you get off on and pass out in a drunken stupor." 

"You never complained about it before." He states. "All the other times you were on your knees with your mouth wide open begging me for it like a cock-starved whore." He adds. 

"That was before. You aren't even supposed to be drunk, Nikki." I sneer. 

"Well, I am,Vivian, you wanna fucking crucify me over it? Huh?!" 

"All of your hard work the past weeks...gone." I remind him. 

"Fuck off." He shoves past me. "If you're not gonna give me any pussy--"

"--Maybe I would if you were sober, asshole, ever consider that?" I snap. 

"I wanna fuck the shit out of you, I've considered that." He states and I feel my face heat up. 

"You're being a pig, right now." I ignore him, turning to go back to bed, pissed and tired. 

"C'mon, baby," he complains from outside my locked door and I roll my eyes. "Baby, seriously, can't we talk about this?" He asks next. "Baby!" He calls. 

I open the door and bitterly mock his voice, "'oh, baby, I'm so sorry, oh, baby, you're so beautiful, oh, baby, just gimme a blow job and it'll completely wipe away the fact that I'm a fucking drunk, ridiculous, asshole, oh, baby, baby, baby, baby'!" I slam the door back in his face. 

"...Well, I never said I was fucking sorry!" He says next. 

"Fuck off, Nikki!"

He snatches me by my wrist, and I see him raise his fist from the corner of my eye as I turn to face him, and I tense up and expect him to hit me but his fist collides with the wall by my head, my hand coming up to my mouth to keep from being too loud in my hysteria, tears rolling down my cheeks as he gives three solid punches to the painted cement bricks. 

He's crying, too, and his hand loosening around my wrist, his face red, his body shaking as he lets out a pained noise and heaves out breaths, his eyes closed.

[toomanyfandoms02]

The Photographer // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

So I made a one-shot based off of the picture down here!

Word count ~ 3.1k

Summary - y/n is a celebrity photographer, and Matthew's birthday is coming up. This calls for a birthday shoot.

Ever since I was in sixth grade, I dreamed of being a photographer. But back then, I was just taking candid pictures of my cat (Peanut Butter), and random flowers that my mom had graciously planted for me. I really never planned on taking nice, professional pictures of people.

But here I was.

I went to 'California College of Arts' in San Francisco for 4 years. After that, I had a bit of trouble getting myself out there. I had a decent following on my instagram. People liked the pictures of my dog, and the pictures of nature that I took on my many travels. But likes and follows don't get you money, at least not enough. So I switched my focus onto more interesting things.

Advertising yourself as a photographer wasn't an easy task. You had to be ruthless, and be willing to get rejected and not back down. So I did what any semi-sane person would do.

I messaged over 50 celebrities asking of they wanted to do a shoot with me. I sent them my prices, and what kinds of shoots I was willing to do. I didn't have much hope for it, but it was worth a try.

And that's where it began.

Out of all of the messages, Andrew Lincoln, AKA Rick from The Walking Dead messaged me back.

*Hello Miss y/l/n! I've actually seen quite a few of your nature shots and I have always wondered how your photos would turn out with people. I would love to be your Guinea Pig.*

He sent me days he was available and I did his shoot. After posting his pictures, my popularity shot from there.

That was a few years ago, I was now taking photos for multiple celebrities. I was ultimately known for my black and white shoots. I had, in fact, just gotten done with a shoot of A.J. Cook. She had requested *me* to take her pictures for an up and coming article that was being written about her. I, of course, gratefully said yes, being a huge fan of hers, along with the whole Criminal Minds cast.

I emailed her all of the pictures I had taken, edited and all, while simultaneously posting them on my instagram.

It was mere hours later before a notification popped up on my phone of an email that I could not believe. Theres no way that he was emailing me, right?

*You have an Email from Matthew Gray Gubler*

*Hi there! I saw your shoot on AJ's instagram and my birthday is coming up. My manager wants me to do a birthday shoot, and we both like your black and white style. I know it's not usually the kind of thing you, birthdays, do but I figured it was worth a shot, and I think you have some real talent. Let me know when you are free next. I am on a break so my schedule is relatively flexible.*

I could safely say that it was a good thing that I lived alone because I don't think I have ever screamed louder into a pillow. Matthew has been one of my favorite celebrities for the longest time. If we were going to be completely honest, once I started watching Criminal Minds, I immediately had a crush on him. This wasn't exactly the profession to be in if you were going to have a celebrity crush. I was often invited to red carpets and movie premiers, so I met quite a few stars. I never thought I would have to worry about slipping up on my professionalism.

Because I never thought I would even meet him.

My obvious answer to his request was yes. I would never *ever* miss an opportunity to have a photoshoot with someone so inspiring and meaningful to me. So I started writing an email back.

*Hi Matthew!*

Should I address him like that? Is that unprofessional?

*Hi Mr. Gubler*

Abso-fucking-lutely not.

*Hi Matthew!* We are gonna stick with that. *I don't know if this is too short of a notice, but I actually have a free spot tomorrow. (Of course if that doesn't work for you, I can figure something out for later, and try to fit it in before your birthday). I have a few ideas for props that I can send you? Let me know how I can help.*

I sent it and ran my hands through my hair, tossing my phone back onto my comforter. I had taken pictures of so many awesome celebrities:

• Selena Gomez

• Robert Downey Jr.

• Dylan O'Brien

• Grant Gustin

• Holland Roden

• Danai Gurira

But this was by far the coolest one, in my mind at least.

While waiting a little to anxiously for a reply, I decided I was going to make myself some lunch, Ramen. I set my phone on the counter as I boiled my noodles, peering over at the blank screen every few seconds (but really they felt like **minutes**).

Just as I was adding the flavour packet to the bowl my phone buzzed. I jumped slightly, spilling part of the packet out of the bowl.

"Damnit." I quickly wiped the salt into the trash can and snatched my phone, seeing another email.

*Tomorrow is actually perfect, and I would love to hear your recommendations on props, clothes, anything really. I'm going to leave my number on this email so we can have easier contact of that's okay with you.*

Wow, alright. I will now have Matthew Gray Gublers number in my phone. I made a contact for him.

**It's y/n, soooo for props. I figured I could bake you a cake! I took a few baking electives in college so I could make a really nice one and we can do something with it. I recommend you bring clothes you like to wear that are black and white. (Other colors work too, but it just looks and flows better if it's black and white). I will set the rest of the stuff up. I will be ready for you by 1 pm if that's okay.**

*You would bake me a cake?! That would be super cool thank you! I would love that. I will bring a few black and white outfits. Would it be weird if I brought a black and white Kimono?*

A chance to see Matthew in a kimono? Please yes.

**Oh my gosh please do. I would love to take pictures of you in an infamous kimono of yours.**

*Awesome! I will see you tomorrow at 1. Heres my managers info for you to sell the billing to.*

He attatched his managers email. I just sat at my kitchens island, smiling like a true dork at my phone.

**And here is my address, I run the studio at my house. What is your favorite cake and icing by the way? :)**

Was a smiley face unprofessional?

I need to chill out.

*Vanilla cake and chocolate frosting possibly? I will eat anything though probably. :)*

Now I was really smiling at my phone like a psycho idiot.

**Alrighty, see you tomorrow**

Since I didn't want to wake up too early tomorrow, I decided I was going to start the cake tonight. I had quite a few recipes held in my cabinets. I located my vanilla cake recipe and put my pre-made chocolate frosting on the counter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After about an hour of preparing, making a cake from scratch, and putting it in the oven. The cake was finally done and cooled. I added black cocoa to the frosting to make it completely black and got out my white gel.

*You made it 3 decades :)*

Was scrawled in calligraphy on the top of the cylindrical cake. I added white drips down the sides and white multi shaped sprinkles to the bottom part.

I set it in my fridge and got ready for bed. I know it's going to be hard to sleep just thinking about tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My alarm woke me up at 10 am, never before this had I woke up with a smile on my face before 12.

I took a quick shower and dressed in a white and blue floral romper with my hair in a high ponytail. Now it was time to set up backgrounds for the shoot.

I had two stations downstairs where I took all my photos. I set the first one up very normal with a white background and a rustic black stool. The second one was set up with another white background but littered with black streamers and big *30* black and white speckled balloons strung at the top.

Once I was done with all that. It was nearing 1. I slipped the cake out of the fridge and slid it onto my island. I glanced up at the clock above my stove.

*12:49*

Since I just had a little bit of time, I went a put some simple makeup on. I usually don't wear makeup when taking pictures of people, but for obvious reasons, I was making an exception.

Just as I was leaving my bathroom I heard a knock at my door. I walked swiftly to my door and opened it shakily.

"Hi!" He held up the clothes that were hung lazily over his arm. He smiled that million dollar smile and I could have sworn he looked me up and down.

Wishful thinking I guess.

"Welcome!" I stepped out of the doorway, silently inviting him in. "If you wanna set your stuff down, those stairs to the right lead you down the the studio."

"Thanks." He scurried down the stairs as I grabbed the cake and followed him down. I set it on a table that I had down there, he peered over at it and immediately burst into fits of laughter.

"I knew you had a sense of humor, so why put something normal and boring on the cake." I laughed with him as he tried to catch his breath.

"This is so perfect." He laughed a little more. "Thank you, so much." I shrugged with a smile. I posed him in front of the streamers with the cake.

He made some silly faces and smiled like there was no tomorrow. Next I brought him to the more plain station, sitting him on the stool. I looked through the lenses of the camera and glared a bit.

"Hey can you put your left leg up on the second peg of the stool?" I asked, pointing to his leg.

"This one?" He put it on the third. I shook my head. "This one?" He moved it down the the fourth. He was smiling a sly smile, seemingly challenging me.

"Let me do it for you." I had to pose people often, but posing him was going to be a little harder for me, considering I found him painfully attractive.

I moved his leg up to the second one and patted it.

"Now leave it there, so I don't have to help you again." I giggled, walking back to my camera. Taking a picture of him leaning forward on the stool and smiling. I then made him laugh and got a good genuine one of him leaning back and laughing. After all that, I proposed that we eat some cake and took a break.

I cut him a slice and handed it to him with a smile.

"So, tell me about yourself." He said, eating a bite of his cake.

"Well, I have always enjoyed photography. I love all types of art, so I also draw and paint often. And I have a black cat upstairs. His name is-" and I stopped, blood rushing to my cheeks. He is most certainly going to ask me the name, and I do not want to tell him.

He stared at me expectantly. "What is his name?" He motioned me to go on.

"Uh," I laughed a little awkwardly, setting my hands in my lap and staring at them. "His name is Spencer. As in Spencer Reid..." I glanced up at him and saw a huge grin break out on his face.

"So you like Criminal Minds? I never would have guessed. You just don't seem the type."

"Well all my memorabilia is in my room, just so people don't think I'm weird for having quite a few framed and signed posters." I smiled up at him, pushing around the remaining cake crumbs on my plate.

"One, That's not weird, that's awesome. Two, can I please meet Spencer and take pictures with him in my kimono."

I don't think I have ever heard a better sentence in my entire life.

"Yes, absolutely! I'll go get him." I clunked up the stairs on my search to find Spencer. I went to his usual spot first, my bed. Luckily he was sitting there, licking his outstretched foot. "Hi baby! You are about to take pictures with the guy you are named after. He almost as cute as you!" I grabbed him from the bed an headed back downstairs. I walked in with the accidental impeccable timing to see Matthew in his barely tied kimono, showing off his chest. My eyes widened a bit and he tied it off fully.

"Is this the famous Spencer?! He is so cute!" He reached his arms out at Spencer. My little fluff ball curled up into him instantly, cuddling into his silky kimono.

We took many many pictures of Spencer and Matthew together. I think maybe my cat likes him more than he likes me now.

"Okay, last idea. How about we just take some more up close pictures of me feeding you some cake?" It came put as a question because I didn't know how comfortable he would be with it.

"Perfect!" I cut another slice of the cake and brought it over to him. We were both sitting on the floor.

"This might be a little awkward, okay?" I giggled as I leaned back to get his whole face in the shot. This proved to be very difficult as I was using my left hand to take the picture. I fed him the cake with the right as he looked at the camera with a more seductive look. I could have melted into the floor.

I decided to switch hands so I could take the photos better, but now my very uncoordinated hand was the one picking up the cake. As I went down to get another section of the cake for another angle of feeding this sculpture of a man, I instead dipped my thumb right into the deep black frosting.

"Shit, I'm so sorry hold on." As I went to stand up and grab a napkin to wipe my thumb off, Matthew grabbed my wrist lightly.

"Hold on, uh, I have an idea, before you do anything." I sat down with a confused look. "I saw someone do this in another shoot. But we totally don't have to do it. I just thought it would be a different idea." His words were more rushed than usual.

"I'm sure I've done weirder things for other shoots, don't worry. It's *your* shoot." I reassured him, though my head was swimming wondering what he was going to do.

"Ok. So. What I'm going to do is put your thumb in my mouth, and I'm basically gonna, uh, suck on it while kinda smiling?" He could barely get through the whole thing without laughing.

"Alright, weird request but I like it!" I giggled for what seemed like the 30th time today. "And to make you feel better, yes, I have done weirder."

"Thank God."

"So I am guessing you want me to do something like this with the rest of my hand, ya know, the part that's not in your mouth." I stated as I placed my hand on his cheek. He let a slow breath out, staring into my eyes.

"Yeah, exactly."

"Okay." I said with a shrug, grabbing my camera from the ground. He opened his mouth with an all too familiar wide grin as I placed my thumb in. His mouth closed around it and he smiled, just a little. I brought my camera to my face, capturing the moment that I would have forever in my mind and in a small frame on my bedroom wall, for sure.

I slipped my thumb from his mouth and watched as his face turned extremely red. To save him embarrassment, I immediately stood up and grabbed a napkin to wipe the rest of the frosting off.

"Can I see it?" He motioned to the camera. I nodded, sitting down right beside him, showing him the picture. It showed off a closer look at the rose tattoos I had near my wrists and the shiny watch that was gifted to me by my mom. "It turned out good! I really hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"Oh no! Of course not. Total opposite." As soon as I said that I regretted it.

"So that made you extremely comfortable?" A sly smile was making it's way onto his face.

"That's, that's not- You know what? Sure, yes." I chuckled. "You don't really make me uncomfortable at all to be honest. So no, you didn't make me uncomfortable."

"Well I'm glad." He smiled and we sat in silence for a moment.

"Well I guess that's it yeah?" He nodded. "Well this was fun. Thanks for being an excellent subject to take pictures of."

He gathered his stuff as we went back upstairs. Once at the door, Spencer came up to him, rubbing on his leg. He bent over to pet him.

"So, I'm not sure if you are single or not." I could feel the blood draining from my face. Was this really happening right now? "But I wanted to know if you wanted to go on a date?"

Yes, this was happening right now.

"Really?" I could tell I sounded extremely excited, but at this point, I didn't even care.

"Yeah, you are super laid back, funny, talented, and you aren't scared away by how weird I am." He laughed, "So yes?"

"I would absolutely love to."

"Great. I'll text you." He winked and waved as he closed the door, leaving.

My back went against the door. I couldn't keep in the squeal so I just embraced it and squealed my heart out, doing a little dance.

Which was quickly ended when I heard a knock at the door.

"I'm sorry, I want to get to know you better immediately." He let out a nervous chuckle. "Are you free for the rest of the day?" I was sure that my face was red as a tomato.

"Yes I am." He grabbed my hand, dragging me outside.

"Then let's go."

[tyunniverse]

FRIENDS FOR A DAY (2)

pair: yeonjun x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2654

parts: 1 | 2

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

It had been a long time since Yeonjun felt like this. Sometimes life in general had become too much to bear and the things that used to make him happy weren't working for him anymore. Times spent alone slowly became more frequent for him than times he'd spent with his friends.

He'd skipped the first day, not wanting to go back to that routine life just yet. And towards the start of the day, he would never have imagined meeting you and getting to spend the day doing things that strayed far from any of the schedules he'd previously planned. A breath of fresh air was what he liked to call it, and he had you to thank for that.

Unlike him, everything was new to you; a new city, a new school, new people, and a whole new life ahead. Yeonjun felt a little envious after realizing it when you'd talked more about yourselves during lunch, but after seeing how you seemed to enjoy every single second of your little sight seeing endeavor, he thought that maybe he could also be a part of something new in your life.

Best friends.

You had agreed to be his best friend from today onwards; the pendant around your neck serving as proof. Yeonjun finds his hand wandering over to his pocket, holding on to his old necklace.

Half of a star. He'd bought it a few years back. The necklace had a similar purpose with the one he was wearing now— meant to be worn separately by two different people. In his case, he had bought it as a whole and had decided to keep one half of it still in its case, stashed inside his closet. His reasons for purchasing it never really felt clear even to him but he also wouldn't call it an impulsive decision. Yeonjun liked to think that he'd be able to find a use for it in the future.

"Yeonjun." You call for his attention, pointing at the posters plastered on a random shop's wall. "It says that the annual carnival will be opening tonight. Wanna go?"

Yeonjun grins. Opportunities somehow kept showing up right in front of his doorstep. "Yeah, only if you want to though. Afterall, I'm only the tour guide for today."

"Shut up." You hold back a smile. "Have you been there before?"

Yeonjun repeats the question in his mind. As someone one would consider pretty popular, you'd expect him to be no stranger in hanging out at fun places like an annual carnival, but that's just it. Yeonjun had never visited that Carnival once ever since it opened. His friends had asked him to tag along but something about it just never seemed to make him want to.

"No." Yeonjun answers, scratching the back of his head. "If we end up going then this would be my first time too." The first time he'd actually wanted to go.

"I guess we're going then." You grin and Yeonjun finds himself smiling back. "It says here that the Carnival's just around the corner so it'd probably be okay if we just walked there."

"Yeah."

The two of you make your way to the Carnival. You still had a good amount of time left before it opened so a few quick stops at some stalls along the way didn't do any harm.

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

In all honesty, Yeonjun didn't even know when and how he'd ended up holding your hand, laughing his heart off by the time you arrived at the entrance but it all just happened somehow. Was it the when your ice cream cone almost landed straight on his shoe earlier? Or when his hand nearly hit you square in the face when he noticed a bug flying towards you? It could've even been when a group of old ladies started hitting on him at the handbag boutique and all you did was stand there shaking, wanting to laugh your ass off.

No matter what the reason was, he liked this. Somehow, it just felt right.

The two of you pay for the tickets before heading inside. The place was larger than any of you had ever expected, cleaner too. People of all ages were enjoying their carnival experience to the fullest. Children were running around with their guardians following closely behind, couples and groups of friends chatting along and taking pictures— Yeonjun could swear he saw two old men arguing over who gets to take a picture with the mascot first.

"So, which ride do you wanna go on first?" You ask, turning to him.

"Well, how about that one." Yeonjun points at the viking and you feel yourself getting more and more excited.

"NICE—" Before Yeonjun knew it, you were dragging him around to every single ride at the carnival.

You liked to keep count of everytime Yeonjun freaked out while you went on the rides, and Yeonjun liked to do the same. Despite the thrill of being at a carnival keeping you hyped up, there were a few times when you had overestimated your tolerance with being thrown around. Yeonjun nearly puked twice: once at the twister, and a second time on the rollercoaster. Even you were almost a victim by the rollercoaster's loops.

Yeonjun had claimed he was an expert at navigating haunted house attractions, stating, "I've been watching horror movies all my life. Nothing scares me at this point, tbh." True enough, nothing scared Yeonjun except every single ominous decoration and jump scares the haunted house threw at him. You weren't too fond of horror yourself, but you ended up trying to be the brave one after Yeonjun basically clung to you half of the time. It didn't help whenever you freaked out since you ended up losing Yeonjun after he not so subtly abandons you at the slightest suspicious sound. It was a miracle you made it out in one piece.

"Yeah, so, uh, sorry about that." Yeonjun laughs it off the moment you two got out.

"Sure but you should know that I'm never gonna let you live it down." You tell him, smiling widely as you hold up the photos you received from one of the staff. "I got evidence."

Yeonjun snatches the photos from your hands. "Bold of you to assume these'll affect me— oh." It definitely did.

You watch as he slips the photos inside his jacket as if it wasn't obvious enough that he was trying to hide it from you. "Nice try but," You take out another batch of photos and wave it around. "Boom. Two copies."

"Wow, okay."

The two of you ended up laughing at each other before you suggest in trying out the stalls. They say time flies by fast when you're having fun and they couldn't be more right. There had been an unspoken competition between you and Yeonjun of who can win the most prizes and let's just say you weren't about to let yourself lose. By the time you got tired, you had a total of three plushies and a bunch of candy bars stuffed in your pockets and well, Yeonjun had the exact amount of prizes you had.

"Fine. It's a draw for now but only because I'm tired." Yeonjun holds the plushies tighter. "We should really get a bag for this. I wonder if we can get a huge plastic bag somewhere."

"Nah, we can just put em in here." You take off your back pack, opening it wide. "I'm sure it can fit all six of them. They're small enough." You were lucky that they did, finally leaving your hands free.

"Wait." Yeonjun pauses after putting the last of his plushies inside. "How can I be sure you won't just take my plushies for yourself after we leave? I'm pretty easy to distract so—"

"If you forget to get them back then I'll just hand them to you tomorrow at school. You go to HSU too, right?" You tell him.

"Yeah, but how will you contact me?"

"Obviously, we exchange numbers."

Yeonjun blinks. Of course that'd be the simplest solution but still. He'd been talking about staying as friends even after all this but the thought of exchanging numbers hadn't really crossed his mind. He takes out his phone and the two of you quickly added each other as contacts, somehow feeling a bit closer after the exchange.

"While we're at it—" Yeonjun pulls you in closer as he bends down. Only now that you've felt Yeonjun's warmth close to you have you noticed how cold it actually was outside . It takes you a few seconds to register that he wants to take a few selfies.

You bust out a smile and tried to go along with whatever weird faces and poses he did. "Send them to me later." You say after examining the photos. There's one where Yeonjun mimicked a kissing motion near your cheek, making you smile. Who would've expected you two were total strangers up until a few hours ago.

"Got room for one last ride?" Yeonjun asks as you return his phone.

"Yeah, sure. Which one?"

"Don't ask as if you don't know. I'm pretty sure you left this one out on purpose."

Perhaps unconsciously, you did. In every single movie that involved the two characters going to a carnival, for some reason, they always left the Ferris Wheel for last. It's not like you wanted something grand to happen when you ride it, but more like you just wanted to get a good view of the entire carnival before leaving. It seemed like the perfect final attraction.

Yeonjun notices how you've gone quiet and decided to hold your hand, pulling you along. "Let's go before the place closes."

"Okay." You look up at him, nodding.

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

The Ferris Wheel ride wasn't all you had expected it to be. It looked pretty slow in the movies but right now? You were about to puke.

"Yeonjun, wait." You hold on to Yeonjun who was sitting opposite to you.

The Ferris Wheel was going too fast to your liking and you started feeling dizzy. Getting a good view of the carnival seemed impossible at this point and looking at your partner made you even more miserable.

Yeonjun was having the time of his life. He loved the feeling in his stomach whenever the ride went down, and the fact that you were lowkey suffering right in front of him made him laugh even harder.

The speed went on for a few more rounds until it finally slows down. Your heart and probably everything else stilled once the ride came to a complete stop just as your car reached the top. "Thank God. I felt like I was going to die."

"Well, you're safe for now." Yeonjun grins, leaning back in his heat. "You wanted to enjoy the view, right? We'll be stuck here for probably about a minute or two so enjoy it while it lasts."

"Yeah." You smile back, looking outside the window.

The winds were colder up there, reminding you of how warm it felt when you stood close to Yeonjun earlier. Yeonjun catches you warming yourself up with your hands and chuckles. He takes off his jacket and hands it over to you. "Here, put this on."

"Thanks." You quickly put his jacket on. Usually you'd go for the polite route and turn him down but if you were going to continue this friendship business then you weren't about to suffer in the cold when the dude's practically handing you a solution.

Yeonjun gives you a little smile before you continue to admire the view. Down there, the lights almost looked like a sea of stars. The music around the place didn't really help set the mood but somehow, the mixture of it along with the laughter and delightful screams of the other visitors made it feel right. After everything that happened today, you felt like it was the right decision to end the day with this breathtaking sight.

And Yeonjun couldn't agree more. The lights below reflected in your eyes in a way that made the atmosphere lighter. He could tell you were happy and right now, that seemed to be enough for him.

The Ferris Wheel began moving. Yeonjun snickers as he felt you grab for his hand, worried that the ride might throw you off once more, but it didn't. The way down was slow, allowing you to enjoy the ride in peace. Your pendant started to shine, reflecting the lights. It reminded him of everything that happened, from the moment you two met and agreed on a friendship that would last for only a day, up until now where he held your hand on the Ferris Wheel after deciding to be friends for real this time. The pendant became the sole proof of that friendship and Yeonjun couldn't help but wonder if the ones he bought a few years back would truly be of any use in the future. But what would it symbolize for? Who knows, he might just give you the other half.

Your car comes to a stop and the doors open. The realization that the day has officially come to an end left you feeling disappointed. Yeonjun squeezes your hand, bringing your attention to him. He gestures for the two of you to get up and you do, finally stepping back on the ground.

Both you and Yeonjun felt that the way back to the entrance was too fast. It really did seem like the two of you wouldn't see each other again despite the fact you went to the same university. The thought felt silly but that's just how the carnival experience gets to you.

"I guess this is it." Yeonjun speaks up first. "You live pretty far from here, right? I can take you home if you want."

"It's okay. My cousin lives nearby and I texted her earlier that I'd be staying over." You tell him, not wanting him to worry. "How about you? Will you be alright on your own?"

"Yeah, definitely." Yeonjun reassures, holding up his hands. "Oh, and by the way. Is it okay if I leave the plushies on your bag for now? I can't exactly carry them on the way back. If it's ok with you."

"Don't worry. You can just take them back tomorrow." You grin and Yeonjun smiles back. "Also, I'm keeping your jacket for now. I'll return it after I clean it up."

"I can work with that." He shouldn't feel this happy but he did. In a way, he was able to find an excuse to meet up with you tomorrow without things getting awkward. Maybe this friendship could work out afterall.

"Thanks for today. Honestly, this was the most fun I've had ever since I got here." You say, taking one last look at him.

I should be the one to thank you. "You know, I have a lot of things I wanna say to you right now but I think I'm gonna wait until I feel like it."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. I'll text you later." Yeonjun gives you a quick pat on the shoulder before running off to the opposite direction. "See you at school! And don't forget to bring the kids!"

You raise a brow. Did he just refer to the plushies as his kids?

He felt dumb, running away from you. The longer he stayed, the more he had trouble leaving, which was new for him. It's been a while since he actually found someone he'd like to hang out with and he was having trouble controlling his excitement. Soon, you'd be able to visit each other's houses, hang out more freely, talk about your days as if it were nothing, and get to know each other more. Honestly speaking, Yeonjun couldn't wait for that day to come but I guess he'll just have to start with tomorrow.

[quinn-tessence]

Nocturne for a Clown

Part 3

Summary: you're tormented by the realization Arthur is the killer clown on the news, yet no bone in your body feels any different for him. Not even Casanova's advances could sway your from wanting to hold Arthur in your arms and alleviate his sorrow. He's had a bad day, and retreats on your couch, broken and confused.

Length: 5k words

Warnings: mentions of murder, lack of remorse, guilt and grief, seeking comfort where he'd never had it from. Smut with dear Arthur that could cause a rush of tremors, be warned. 🤭❤

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You sat and watched. Then watched and watched some more. There were no words, no voice, no sound coming through your gaping mouth as the skin on your lips almost started to crack. It made sense. The blood, the bruise, the liberating sex, the wretched guilt. Oh God, what has he done?, you repeated in his voice over and over, that impossible puzzle putting itself together before you as you hid your gouging eyes underneath heavy, sweaty palms in a much too similar reflex to his own.

What has he done? He'd been beaten down surely, given his frail nature you could see how he'd be fluent in being at the receiving end, but as grievous as the thought was, it made it no less valid. This was bad, he’d land straight into Arkham if you picked up that phone to call the authorities, the way a considerate citizen would, as if Gotham deserved any at all. But you weren't one of them, were you? Never had you really fit in, yet you tried for the sake of appearances, it had become so burdening of late, only the thought of Arthur could provide the comfort you'd been seeking.

The news reports kept blaring, yet all your compassion overflowed for the clown, had you been able to see things objectively you'd still think he was hero. Three fewer assholes in Gotham, only a million more to go, you heard an inner voice say, even if you knew that was enough reason to throw you into the depths of Arkham Asylum. You'd sadly known that place from family, and you never wanted to set foot in that Tartarus again, but perhaps the apple didn't fall far from the tree. You couldn't stomach the thought of Arthur sitting opposite the glass wall from you, so dozed up on sedatives he'd hardly even recognize you. No, no, no. You wouldn't let that happen, and yet he'd need his own time and space to process.

You resisted the urge to bang on his door and ask for a full account, it felt as if you were a passenger on a derailing, speeding train. Regardless of how breathtaking the turquoise water under the rails, your gut wrenched at the thought of plunging into it head first. You were a decent swimmer, but you knew you’d be incapable of fighting those waters from swallowing you whole. You'd just given yourself to him, entirely and shamelessly, and regret was nowhere in sight. Had you been the forth prey of his killing spree, he would have killed you already. Yet he did the exact opposite, in distress and quivering like a leaf, but it was your door he opened after his rupture. He trusted you to keep this secret for him. And you welcomed the trust.

Within a few days you noticed you'd returned to your bad habit of unconscious nails biting. As if the deafening tumult between your temples wasn't enough, you also had to self flagellate as you desperately waited in silence.

You were busy enough at work, and the newest addition to your team had become daring enough to invade your private space little by little. Tall. Lean. Broad shouldered. Curly caramel hair and eyes of obsidian, winking at you shamelessly each time he passed by you. Patrick was a force in his field, yet he rolled his eyes and tongued his cheek whenever you'd call on him for a task, as if wanting to taunt you. Quite quirky and unprofessional, but restrictive enough to question yourself if you were merely projecting. Not once had he failed to deliver, on the contrary, yet that sly attitude never left him. Hm. The distraction was welcome, but it was nothing more. You'd catch yourself staring through him, picturing sparkling emeralds and cocoa, having to snap yourself back to reality before he'd think it was him you were aching for just like all your infatuated colleagues.

He must have checked with your giggly girlfriends before casually slipping in an invitation to your favorite bar after hours, casual drinks with a few colleagues, of course. Perhaps you should have politely declined, but you needed the respite from the heart wrenching torment, even if just for a few hours.

As empty as the venue was, he insisted on strolling in your visual field, intriguingly charming, maybe a bit too charismatic. It was time to maintain a level of dignity with your colleagues and remove yourself before getting into a state where you'd find yourself in Arthur's apartment, this time fully conscious. Yet Patrick gallantly offered to drive you over, posing a certain concern for your safety alone in the streets with a murdering clown on the loose. HA! You giggled at the joke being on him, silently talking to yourself. No thank you, you rascal, protection from that clown is the last thing I need. He insisted on paying for the taxi at least, and you’d had two drinks and wanted to be home already.

The thunderstorm washed the streets rapidly as you entered your building. You loved ravenous thunderstorms, especially as they traversed the sky over your cozy apartment bathed in lily scent. You took comfort in the hot shower and the chilly air in the room, lightning bolts clearing up the sky for a flash of a second as you wrapped yourself in the bathrobe, ready for Murray's dry humor.

Oh God! Your heart leapt to your throat as a soaked silhouette bathed your floors in cocoa flavor. At last.

‘Arthur! You scared me!’ he lay motionless, your words passing through him as if he wasn't even there. ‘Is everything ok?’

His damp fingers absently traced a faint line over the glass of your coffee table, his body slouched and stiff, the edges of his hair dripping on the couch.

‘I had a bad day.’

The words had come from a deep dark pit inside his chest, a wretched misery draped across his face as you kneeled next to him, cupping his cheeks. You'd ached to see his sparkling jades, yet you'd met them covered in a thick coat of tears, on the edge of dropping.

‘Arthur, what happened, sweetheart? Talk to me, please' He was so tired and withered, not even the wicked cackle would surface in this state.

‘I had a bad day…’

‘You said that, sweetheart, tell me what happened. Are you hurt?’

‘Kitten. I've done something… I…’ for seconds he tried to articulate, but the cackle fought its way up his throat.

‘Arthur shhhh. I know it was you. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I won't force you… I won’t judge you for it, I promise. Just sit with me for a second’ his head already leaning on your chest, your palm caressing his piercing bones, even through sets of clothes. He sat sedated, limbs heavy, flesh trembling, voice cackling in wrenching anguish for what felt like minutes on end.

‘You do?’ he asked between ruptures as if to steer his initial subject into whatever you'd conveniently brought up.

‘I do. I knew it the moment I heard the news after you stormed out. I saw the blood and the bruise on your face. You won't find any judgement here, I promise. I know you needed time to process, but you’re here now. Shhh' you almost cradled him in your arms, the most powerful instinct to protect him even from himself overbearing. He was all bone and sinew, like a hungry lone wolf, but there now was a sinister vibe to him.

‘Good. I'm glad you know. I lost my job that day, and then they attacked me in the subway, beating me to a pulp. Hm. Now you'll know that killing them hasn't bothered me at all. How's that for casual conversation?’

An unnerving tremor slid down your spine at the tone of his voice. You'd known him for a while, yet this resentful sneer was far from something you'd expect from timorous Arthur. Dreadful it's what it was, spine-tingling, intriguing, you were utterly mad to clasp this deranged man to your bosom when another prince charming just waited for one damn look from you. Who cared, you thought, Gotham’s gonna claim all of us sooner or later.

‘All I want is for you to be safe, Arthur. I won't tell anyone, but you need to be careful, sweetheart, you can't be saying things like those to anyone, please'

‘I have no one to tell, Y/N. And you’re not just anyone. You know. I’m still here, although you could have thrown me in police custody for the past few days.’ The cackles had given him a short respite, even if still lingering on the edge of bursting. He wheezed heavily before speaking. ‘My whole life I didn't even know if I really existed. And today, I feel… hollow…’

You'd asked and asked again as you touched his face and held it close to yours, his forehead as cold as the thunderstorm outside this comforting protective bubble.

‘My mother had a heart attack. She's in the hospital. Hah. My mother…’ a late instinct turned your skin to prickles hearing him speak from a different octave, a thick air of mustering resentment filling the room. ‘I had a few days to myself and I decided to deliver a letter to Thomas Wayne from her, seeing how he never bothered to write back. I'd told you she worked for him 30 years ago, and I read it although I shouldn’t have. I'd never known my father, but the letter said it was him. I confronted my mother and she told me everything about the two of them. But… instead of some warmth or a bit of decency, he told me my mother was insane and that I had been adopted. That and a punch to the face is what I got. Hm. Who am I, then? You tell me'

Your own eyes on the brink of overflowing, your soul coiled. You couldn't do much, but he needed comfort. Where would you even start, though? His tone of voice, the grief weighing him down, the droplets off his wet hair disintegrating whatever pieces were left of him, a question mark in stead of whomever he thought he'd been his whole life. Yet he didn't expect comfort. Such a foreign concept to him, as if reserved only to an elite he was not part of and would not dare intrude upon. You could easily hear how he'd just laugh it out into his pillow at night, his cries stifled, lacking a corner of privacy and personal intimacy where he could really build up that forced smile he'd put on every next day. You’d go utterly mad if you were in his shoes, no comfort and no expectation of it. So used to being overlooked, deep down he knew he was alone, and that filled him with fear and hopelessness. So you shushed and nuzzled him to your chest, hoping the warmth of your body would be soothing enough for the chaos that he was.

‘I don't know who I am, kitten. So I went down to Arkham and stole my mother's file just to find that he'd been right. The… horrors… she subjected me to as a child had gotten me locked up in Arkham years ago, but now I think I was just trying to hide from her, from this rotten city, from this world. I felt safe in that white room, ironically. When they released me, the heavy medication was supposed to make me feel better, instead it suffocated even my most basic impulses.’

Laughter ripped at his throat and pulled his face into a grimace, your palms clasping him so tightly you were afraid you might smother him. How much pain and grief could a man take, his poor soul must have been bound to an eternal rock, forever pecked by hungry vultures.

‘How can you even welcome me into your home if I don't even know that much? I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. I should go, no need to burden you with any of this' he meant every word, as he kissed your hands with teary lips and dragged himself half upright.

‘Don't go' you close to begged. ‘Please stay.’

The grooves in his forehead you loved, just as the distinctive scar on his upper lip and the deep dark eye bags crowning his jades, his state of mind added another couple decades to his age. As you took him in through your pores, you remembered the shy clown peering through the shelves, and how the makeup would do the exact opposite of its intended purpose. Somehow he'd been unaware of how the makeup brightened his eyes to a clarity and sharpness you could cut yourself into. It was endearing how he'd stared at you when you'd first seen him wearing the costume, thinking he could hide under that mask when really it only brought him to life, his facial expressivity more riveting than ever. Yet he was here with you, more Carnival than Arthur even without the paint, as broken as a mirror in infinite shards.

‘Will you still have me here after this?’

‘I would. Please. I'm glad you came here after all this instead of going back home.’

The thought he'd ever been intimate with a woman before you had dissipated in an endless pool of murky turquoise, the genuine surprise in his eyes cutting you to your bone. There was no question, you knew.

‘Thank you, kitten. I'll stay, if you want me here'. There was no hiding anymore, you'd made it sparkling clear by being an accessory after the fact.

‘I do, Arthur, so much. I wanted you here… since you held that elevator for me, yet somehow we always missed our moment. No need to thank me…’

Had it not been for the roaring thunder, he'd probably hear your galloping heart, yet his composure betrayed just that acknowledgement. Every fiber in your body ached to touch his soul and mend it. The erotic tension you couldn't deny, but that wasn't anywhere near the reason why you'd willfully allowed yourself to become his accomplice. He sat back down, timidly reaching for your hand with his own smooth fingers, to place it on his cheek, now as warm as to ignite all the fires inside you with only one touch. Regardless of the endless torment of his life, it was so effortless to feel safe in his presence, even if he'd just killed three men in cold blood and joggled his life as he balanced on a thin string.

‘But I want to. Will you... let me thank you?’ his eyes had meekly turned to yours with a restless heeding for that glimpse of complicity you'd joined in a few times before.

‘If you insist, sweetheart, I guess you already did. You're welcome.’ And through that smile you could feel your body radiating as intensely as a candle flame in the dark. You’d tripped and fell into feelings for him, and nothing could brush them off.

‘No... I really want to thank you, kitten...’ Painfully slowly, he drew himself closer to you, a cocktail of demureness and ardor shaping his beautifully chiseled face into one that you'd missed your whole life, without even knowing. ‘I want to... put my mouth on you...’

Oh… He'd shown you a short, blissful glimpse of this other Arthur, the less tense, less uptight, more daring when he'd taken what you both wanted. There was always a limit to his courage, and yet he’d usually fall back into the timid, maiden like demeanor that he was. This felt different though, as there was a glimpse of unbridling in the way he inhaled, in the twitch of his contoured eyebrow, his whispering husky voice demanding consent. He needed this. Perhaps it would help deafen the torment for a quiet minute, and you were willing to let him try. Oh, who were you fooling, your heart had leapt at the thought of this since you saw him motionless on your couch, albeit in your mind the roles had been reversed. You'd bitten your lip instinctively, a most nonverbal cue of compliance to his plea, and within a short second he was tasting it, sucking it, biting it gently, as his nimble fingers strolled so tenderly through your hair to uncover your face, your eyes already deeply sunk behind fluttering eyelids.

‘I want to feel you shiver in my mouth' he whispered with a faltering voice, taking in all of your scent through avid nostrils. ‘You always smell so good, so clean… I want to taste you…'

So tender he was, you'd forgotten what it felt like to be wished for, body and soul alike, yet his palms willingly showed you a striking contrast to the tenacious Arthur who'd barged in days ago, as if your skin was porcelain and he wouldn't want to break you. He uncovered your naked skin underneath the fluffy bathrobe and smoothly tasted the growing prickles with curious fingertips, lowering himself towards your thighs at a painstakingly slow pace that would soon have you beg.

Pulling you to the edge of the couch where he’d slid himself, he finally broke the jarring tension of his eye contact just to move his head lower, descending decisively. The instant his curious lips parted, a shiver jolted through your flesh and your heart leapt into a marathon, you let yourself fall into his mouth without any control. How beautiful he was, you reminded him over and over as your fingers slicked his damp hair back, curling it around his ears, uncovering his furrowed forehead and perfect chiseled jawline. The sight of him between your thighs was no stranger, but you’d only seen it from afar until now, deep within the corner of each of your fantasies. Such a kind soul he was, but that mouth a wretched devil… oh my…

For a second he looked as if he'd forgotten all his sorrows as he strolled his tongue over your petals, tasting your skin one inch at a time, gently exploring to test your every reaction to his laps, his eyes fascinated with each of your whimpers. The throbbing love button he'd unveiled, a curiosity he had to touch with his tongue to feel the pulsation, your purrs a source of the validation in an endless sea of self doubt. Taking his time, curiously exploring this newfound medication for his sorrowful blues, he quickly grew hungry and greedy as an addict for a stronger fix, yet somewhat cautious to not overdose. His dilated basil eyes etched onto your contorted face, delighting in each tiny reaction he drew from you with his mouth, yet the catalyst to set you fully ablaze were his own moans as he enjoyed himself enjoying you. Oh God, what is he doing to me, I never want him to stop…

You’d thought you'd be the one comforting him, but it seemed as if he was doing it for both of you. His eyes moved around maniacally, taking in the shape of your naked breasts, of your nipples hardened at the thunderous air in the room, your moans guiding him into a delicate rhythm that could make you climb walls, even with the clumsiness that came with tasting a new person. He couldn't be a novice, although his curiosity was striking and enticing. Regardless of all that sorrow he'd brought with him, he curled a satisfied smirk under his scar and an impertinent twitch of his eyebrow sent you into a frenzy. His jades dilated at seeing your lips bitten, your eyebrows furrowed, close to crying in ecstasy, unable to move at the pleasure he gave and gave some more.

The mercury in your thermometer jumped at knot speed towards one big show of fireworks whose fuse got consumed by his kindling flame at a slow pace. Thoughts of his recent killing spree rushed through your mind, yet you were as high as a kite. You didn't care. So you let them ooze out to leave a hazy emptiness behind to be filled with all this spectacle of indulgence.

The pleas were whimpering whispers as you arched and etched your fingers in his smooth cocoa hair to anchor him, the other palm clenching a poor throw pillow to deformation. You hips guided by the rhythm of his palms on your waist, your moans deepening as he'd made you move onto his face, using it as a fine tuned instrument to orchestrate the crescendo of both your pleasure. Now that all your 8000 sensory nerve endings could light Gotham for Christmas if visible, his tongue flickered around your pearl, feeling the climax building up towards that overwhelming rapture. Moans turned to shrieks, toes and fingers clenched in reflex, his eyes and mouth on you as he winked from under long dark eyelashes. You combusted so powerfully into his mouth, within a few blissful seconds you'd left him glistening in traces of yourself.

Only as you quivered your last drop of pleasure in his mouth did you realize why he'd needed this so badly, he craved the validation of being a man even if his identity in shatters. It was one thing to have no identity, but another to not even be a man. Pleasuring you was one damn win that would hold his feet on the ground if he did it right, and that he could control. He had been scrutinizing you as you gasped for air, your eyebrows furrowed almost painfully, your flushed delicate muscles still throbbing under his tongue.

‘Oh, Arthur, that was… amazing…’

Still lingering his lips onto your inner thighs, he kissed tenderly as your flesh still twitched. You wanted him even more now than you did before. But tonight should be about him, even if he'd taken the lead so gracefully, so skillfully, so deliciously.

‘Yeah…’ the shyest smile draped across his tinted face, 'I felt that, kitten. I've… never really done this before…’ You'd known, deep down, and yet hearing him say the words was the most tender of piano nocturnes to your ears, so you latched at his mouth to taste him through your flavor, one that if you could bottle up, it would drive mankind rabid into destructive adoration.

Come here, Arthur, you whispered as you pulled him next to you, the puzzlement over his arching eyebrows an absolute delight you'd dreamt of relentlessly. He didn't fight it, yet the stiffness in his bones betrayed an urge he'd palmed away many nights without resolution, anxiety creeping over him at the realization it was now staring him in the face.

‘Wh… what are you doing?’, you shushed him as a response.

‘Kitten, please, don't feel like you need to give me anything back…’

‘Who said anything about giving back? I'm taking this for myself, Arthur. Let go, baby, let me take care of you'

‘Kitten… ohh' his eyes went straight to the back of his head, heavy eyelids covering his jades, his lips parted as your fingers traced the bulge straining his pants to suffocation. ‘Ok…’ he exhaled anxiously, a timidly bouncing knee betraying the rush of emotion flowing through him as you dragged his clothes over his head, his pants crowning the floor within a few seconds, leaving him naked to your hungry gazes.

The flickering light of the candles reflected over his protruding ribs as if a part of his body had caved in under the weight of his shoulders, his palms on your face strolling and tasting the reality of your flesh, he must have thought you were a side effect of his medication. Yet the prickling shivers traversing his body as you trailed your fingers over it were not. You reached for his lips as you lay him across the couch, your breasts invading his chest, the warmth of your body soothing his anxious trembling. That defeated look on his face, so vulnerable he'd made himself to you, he had nothing to give yet you still wanted him. He was mystified with even the remote possibility, let alone you giving him that adoration he'd chased endlessly, but never caught.

‘You are so beautiful, Arthur, let me show you, please…’ He was your paradise lost in the depravity of Gotham, a villain in itself, weighing down on each of its residents and having chosen Arthur to crush mercilessly under its own lack of a well defined identity, ready to teach us all lessons in humility that could lead to desperation.

He nodded shyly, his jades coated with an acute layer of yearning over something he'd never been given before. His body was a withered Stradivarius, abandoned in the corner of a cold, damp world, subjected to years of weathering and painful lack of any care, no wonder he was so feeble in between your fingers. But his strings were steel, and steel doesn't weather. It would naturally respond to external factors just like anything else but no amount of forcing, pushing, suppressing would bring out the brilliant austere sound it was designed to bring. Had he been less frail, you'd relate him to a cello, one that needs to be held tight to one's chest before playing it, where its resonating chamber rests upon the artist's heart as she moves the bow on the saddest of instruments. Yet he was so fragile, the wails of his chords almost bringing you to tears as you ghosted over them, testing what amount of pressure would bring the vibration, how to explore the potential of the sound and bring it closer to perfection. You were there to give him all that, to polish all the dust away, his wrinkles, his chiseled edges, to practice on his strings and validate his worth until he felt himself a Stradivarius for the first time in his life. He'd been blessed with a beautiful instrument that could bring such intense sensory bliss if only he'd find the right hands, and you longed to play him through the night, to tear your fingers into his chords and to sing his melancholy away.

What a trembling mess he'd become as soon as your lips strolled down his neck, the smell of rain and cigarettes off his skin intoxicating you into indelible addiction. The farthest you went, the more you saw how little he expected that you'd turn your full attention to him, as if never daring to expect anything other than what you'd allow him to take. You kissed your way down from his chest, palms exploring and fondling every bony texture, every inch of soft skin until reaching an extremity that felt to your fingertips as both together. Trembling, he slicked back his hair and sunk deeper into the couch, scrutinizing your face in detail and feeding you those micro expressions of Arthur and Carnival together, the twitch in his eyebrow a give away that you'd be playing for an audience of two tonight.

So immersed in the overflow of sensation he was as you took him into your mouth, his only verbal response a muffled ‘F-fuck, kitten', but his whole body screamed a different story of twitches at the touch of your tongue and lips. How demure the sounds he made as he shivered over and over, his eyes shut tightly, his mouth half open, heavy breaths raising his chest, quivering lips alternating silent approvals or four letter curses, as if careful to not be caught. So painfully expressive, all you wanted was to see him melt under your touches like silver over a burning flame without a hurry in the world, your tongue tracing a tale more evocative than any words could ever express.

With each stroke of your lips, he let go to all but that intense pleasure, as if your mouth held the power to oust the very fabric of reality, offering him an escape into a wonderland he'd been denied entrance all his life. He wants to be wanted, needs to he needed, lusts to be lusted for, his quivering lips more than enough validation for that thought. As you felt his muscles unwind, his fingers tremoring, his breath traversing his trembling body, you'd made him float in an isolation tank of indulgence. When you stopped, his voice would growl and whimper in reflex, the purring sounds begging for more. Some would call it schadenfreude, you called it your tiny overdose in hearing him say 'please' as you teased and inflamed him. His taste in your mouth, his smooth texture, his delicate skin, you wanted nothing more than to lock that door and trap him in this perpetual state of bliss. For eternity wouldn't be enough to put together all his broken pieces, but it would be a start.

The meekness in his jade eyes was wrenching, yet as he looked into yours, you quickly understood why. You couldn't hear his silent whispers, yet you knew he was begging for more as the throb in your mouth intensified and his whimpering green eyes slid to the back of his head, his palms clenching the couch so forcefully he could tear into it. It mattered no less as you felt him completely let go throb after throb, his body convulsing in spasms, the taste of him ambrosia hidden from all other mortals.

His head sunk deep in the couch pillow, his arms and body heavy and immobile, breath ragged, he giggled for the first time that day, a laugh so genuine it felt foreign to both of you, a rattled stranger you both wanted to welcome in and nurture back to his feet. As he lay sprawled on your couch, naked and ecstatic, you wished he was happy, for once. You needed a minute to freshen up, and as you returned to shut the windows and lay a blanket over him, he'd almost dozed off from exhaustion.

You sunk next to him as slick as a cat, laying him onto your chest and fondling your fingers in his damp cocoa hair, his limbs latching at you rendering you almost breathless with the radiating warmth of his body.

‘Kitten, I… I don't know how to thank you…’, he whispered in the nook of your neck, asleep had his flesh not sweetly twitched him back to a half awake state. ‘I've been off my medication for a few days, but I might have found an endless supply of pure morphine…’. His body had finally rested its convulsion, his limbs falling heavier, his breath slower, within a few seconds of his thought his eyes already moved spastically under heavy eyelids.

He was right, he'd found pure morphine, and so had you. It would consume you both, but him in your arms was that feeling humanity had sought since its birth. A once in a lifetime adventure they'd write sonnets about in the past, one that was yours to experience and live through with Arthur. That morphine had just kicked in for both, and you were floating on a cloud high above the thunder slowly roaring away in the night.

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

Thank you for reading this far! ❤

A special thanks to a few of the lovely people in this community that inspires me to keep putting my odes to Arthur on paper:

@wuika @iartsometimes @impulsiveclown @arthurflecc @littlebird92 @life-or-something-like-lt @jokers-puddin-pop @arthurfleckownsmysoul @jokersdoll @bananabreaddough @paperorigami @ransomguest49 @daydreamhustler @arthurjokersgirl @forever-fleck @sweet-nothings04 jokerlicious @ajokeformur-ray @shaw-2000 @jaraysha1121 @jofic059​ @shit-i-love-clowns

[sxrensxngwrites]

“false direction” pt. 2 — cedric diggory x reader

not my gif

summary: cedric and cho are the newest couple in school and everyone seems to agree that they were made for each other. everyone except harry and y/n, who are each pining after cho and cedric respectfully.

tags/warnings: fake dating au, reader is any house but Gryffindor, platonic!harry x reader, reader and harry are both a mess, i low key hate this my bad

word count: 1.4k

part one || part two || part three

masterlist

crossposted on wattpad and ao3

Keeping up appearances as Harry's girlfriend was harder than [Y/N] had originally thought.

It was odd having a boy a year younger than her, one that she had always seen as a brother, guiding her around like a well-intentioned puppy. Not only was it odd, it was awkward.  Harry tried his best to act like the whole debacle was normal, but it was easy to tell that he was put off by pretending to be someone's boyfriend.

He now walked her to class and carried her books. He even held her hand when he felt like someone was watching them. She had begun to hang out with him and his friends on trips to Hogsmeade, and not to mention supporting him at every Quidditch match. It would've been a wonder if Cedric and Cho hadn't seen the two at that point.

The Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor had been all anyone had been talking about all week. Whoever won was going on to play against Slytherin in the finals, and the crowds were eager to see the results.

The same excited chatter filled the stadium as it always did, and the seats were nearly filled to bursting. Blue and silver colored scarfs and sweaters decorated one side of the stadium and red and gold the other. The atmosphere of any Quidditch match at Hogwarts was usually above and beyond, and this one wasn't any different.

[Y/N] had taken her seat amongst the heart of the Gryffindor stands, perfectly posed for her facade of supporting Harry. It wasn't like she wouldn't support her friend if they weren't pretending to be a couple, but she might've been sat away from the action if she wasn't.

To complete the illusion, the girl was wearing a Gryffindor sweater. She had borrowed it from Hermione, although the rumors that were circulating said it was Harry's. She smiled in satisfaction, knowing that if who her sweater belonged to was amongst the gossip this week, then perhaps word of her and Harry's "relationship" had reached Cedric and Cho.

Hermione and Ron sat on her right engaged in conversation, but she herself was studying the faces in the stands and keeping her eyes peeking for the one and only Cedric Diggory. They had sat together once or twice before, whenever Cedric wasn't playing. She remembered the times fondly, even if not many words were spoken. She crossed her heart that Cedric would repeat the past and sit with her, although she knew it was a foolish notion. He would probably sit with the Ravenclaw section to support Cho, like she was supporting Harry.

"Whatcha lookin' for?"

She practically jumped out of her own skin when she heard Cedric's voice. He definitely wasn't supposed to be in the Gryffindor cheering section!

"Uh—just watching everyone warm up." [Y/N] covered, her face flushed.

Cedric nodded and turned to look down at the pitch. Luckily, both teams were actually running drills on the pitch before the match began. Cho was currently weaving up and down the field, preparing to catch the snitch. Harry was also on the field, although currently in a huddle with the Weasley twins and Oliver Wood.

[Y/N] looked up from the Gryffindor team and back at Cedric.

"If you don't mind me asking, what brings you up here?" She asked, her palms slightly sweaty.

Cedric chuckled. "I came to sit with Mikey and Curtis like I usually do, but it seems like they decided to clear out." He shifted his glance from the field and onto the girl in the Gryffindor sweater.

"I could ask you the same." He joked, giving the girl a nod. "Last I checked you weren't a Gryffindor."

[Y/N] laughed at that one. She gave the handsome boy a shrug.

"Well I—"

"Wait, lemme guess." Cedric turned his entire body away from the pitch and towards the girl. His brow furrowed and he rubbed his chin as he pretended to theorize. "You and Potter."

She gave him a nod, and watched as he shook his head.

"I'm gonna be honest," He laughed as he leaned over the railing of the stands. "I didn't wanna believe it when I heard it."

What was that supposed to mean? [Y/N] looked at him once more, her own brow furrowed.

"How come?"

"Well, I consider both you and Harry my friends. It just caught me by surprise when I heard about you two being a couple. I didn't know you two really knew each other."

The same could've been said for him and Cho.

"Yeah, we'd talked before. He asked me out to Hogsmeade about two weeks ago." The lie came out of her mouth like clockwork. She'd been telling the story that she and Harry had made up for the past week and a half, but she couldn't help but feel slightly upset telling Cedric. She'd been waiting all this time to plant the seed of her master plan, but it didn't feel right.

"Enough about me." [Y/N] quickly said before her disappointment could seep through the cracks. "What about you and Cho?" She attempted to wag her eyebrows, another sorry attempt to seem lighthearted.

Cedric laughed. Although, one could hardly call it a laugh. More so, he let a puff of hair blow out of his nose.

"We broke up."

Merlin's beard.

[Y/N] stared at Cedric for longer than she'd like to admit. Did she hear him right?

"What happened?" She caught the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

Cedric looked up, and the girl next to him could only imagine that he was focused on one of the tiny flags atop one of the Quidditch towers. He exhaled, and [Y/N] could only think about how handsome he was.

"We jumped into it too fast, I suppose. We agreed that we worked better as friends." Cedric looked back down at the girl in the Gryffindor sweater and gave her a smile. "No hard feelings at all, you know?"

Said girl nodded, and suddenly felt very sick to her stomach.

"Let me know what love's like, because I'd love to know."

***

[Y/N] quite literally had her face buried in a book on the library table. Her cheek was flush with the pages as she groaned for about the fourth time this hour.

"How could we be so stupid?"

She picked up her head only to throw it back down onto the book once again.

"Why'd you let us do this, Hermione? You're supposed to be the smart one." She continued.

"If I remember correctly, both Ron and I tried to warn you against it." Hermione didn't bat an eye at the girl next to her, and continued to shuffle through book after book.

[Y/N] flopped her head to the left to glare at Hermione. "Hush up."

"So you mean to tell me that not two weeks after you two begin your fake relationship, Cedric and Cho are already broken up?" Ron was leaned up against a bookshelf with his arms crossed, a smug look on his freckled face.

"Yes, exactly that. You don't have to rub it in." Harry grumbled from another chair at the table, his own face propped up against his arm.

"And what's stopping you and Harry from 'breaking up' and getting who you fancy?"

"Because, Ronald." [Y/N] flew up, the bridge of her nose red from where it's been shoved against the book. "The entire castle just found out about Harry and I last week, and it doesn't reflect well on either of us to break up with each other just after Cedric and Cho did. It'd be obvious that we were faking the whole time!"

"Sounds a bit complicated if you ask me." Ron gave a mumble and turned his back on the group, clearly done with the whole ordeal. Whether [Y/N] liked to admit it or not, she was making this more complicated than it needed to be. Sure, her and Harry's egos might be a bit wounded after, but she'd have to toughen up and swallow her pride.

"What are we gonna do, Harry?"

"We've got to end this fast, before it gets too out of control." He nodded. "Before Cedric and Cho change their minds." He joked.

"So it's decided," [Y/N] said to her partner in crime. "You need to break up with me in front of the whole school."

"Agreed."