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#i’m bad at drawing shoes that don’t have any heel to them lmao
sonic-adventure-3 · 2 years
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tangle doodle to commemorate having finally started reading the idw comics! i love her
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vegalocity · 2 years
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Hello. I hope you don’t mind me asking but I was wondering something about the Tyrant Prince Oblivion au. You see there was a recent ask from @unseelie-robynx about Syntax in that au and in it it was mentioned that her for of “wifed-up” design was being thought up and it got me wondering if there where other interesting things about the other characters who will be “wife-ified”. So can you tell us anything? Also I’m asking you since you did Wife Red’s design so…yeah
I will say first off both me AND @unseelie-robynx are making the Tyrant Prince AU, we're mostly fleshing it out via an extended rp between us, so you can ask either of us and we'll have roughly the same answers about this kind of thing give or take a bad end or a differing timeline one of us came up with on our own (the Red Wakes Up Bad End was almost entirely Robynx's for instance and I've been plotting out one I like to call The Cavalry Falls)
But in relation to the question, i will say we do have a couple of 'Wife' setups depending on the timeline, and all of them have specific Vibes and Aesthetics that are brought to the table.
So obviously there's Red, and his 'wife' look is very... 50's traditional i suppose you could say, very 'summer home in Stepford' as we call it
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But you all already knew that, Wife Red is one of the main visual draws for this AU lmao
Huntsman is another person that got wife-ified, and he and Red are the only two that are always put in this position no matter the TP Timeline. (since Huntsman 'willingly' went into things to get the rebellion access to the music for an eventual reverse to be made and then getting left there for too long on Spider Queen's call to call off the rescue to avoid detection is kind of the real reason why any PLOT can happen at all after a certain point)
But Huntsman's design is based mostly on the fact that Xiaotian is still decently arachnophobic, and from his bias it lead to Red's bias, and thus they directed Huntsman toward looks that 'covered him up' so to speak. we settled on a 'gothic lolita' type aesthetic and... ngl when i was drawing it out...
he honestly kills it
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(though my own art style might have some part in that since my artistic influences have a lot of Shoujo in them so my character art tends to come out a fair bit softer)
In the Bad End where Syntax gets wife-ified just by getting caught, we went for something kind of 'victorian' since, as Robynx has said, the Court (mainly Xiaojiao and Xiaotian, but Red's not innocent in this either) kind of took a lot of frustration out on him for how much of a troublesome prisoner he was, thus he'd be specifically put in stuff that purpousefully gives him some constant low level misery.
Corsets that are always a bit TOO tight and press the implant against his spine, big poofy skirts that are super NOT Good texture and he's the only one we agreed would be put in heels (since Red probs rarely wears shoes at all and Huntsman would more likely be in Mary Janes for The AestheticTM) all specifically to restrict his movement and make life as baseline miserable as possible but in ways that people wouldn't notice.
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but he IS more protected in the Red Wakes Up ending since these freaks do still consider themselves heroes and thus would probably honor the deal Huntsman struck with Red to come quietly in exchange for Syntax's general wellbeing
as such I think they'd probably put him in something softer, less specifically put together to hurt, though I personally do still like the 'period peice' concept for like irony's sake, so personally i'm fond of like, a 'turn of the century Gibson Girl' type look in that particular ending
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Robynx already told y'all our general ideas on what would happen to Spindrax in either of the ends that she appears in, but in a few of them she doesn't really show up at all, and in THOSE timelines we do have an alternate wife for Xiaojiao with her own aesthetic niche
She's a fully OC character named Shuyin, we've mentioned every so often that in the Tyrant Prince world there IS a growing cult full of people that know that Xiaotian is brainwashing people and are doing so to themselves willingly, and one thing lead to another until they were convinced that 'the court' was in fact a 'Pantheon' instead. and they became a real fucking Cult.
Shuyin was made as a way to examine the cult from the inside, but we accidentally got attached to her and so did Xiaojiao so in timelines where the court are made fully aware of the cult and as such are made fully aware of the whole 'brainwashing' thing (but since the cult is very good at recruiting people they tend to be able to get them On Board with the whole thing so now whoever discovered it goes from unknowing pawn to willing accomplice) Shuyin gets that 'coveted' title of 'Xiaojiao's Wife' first due to her worship of her making the idea of 'owning' someone particularly alluring.
But since she didn't catch Xiaojiao's attention by being a pain turned obsession and also has a physical disability Xiaojiao is far softer to her than she is to Spindrax in other worlds. And as such has a softer aesthetic to go with it. Specifically Xiaojiao likes elegant looks on Shuyin, long flowing peices that show off her height and such. Shuyin is CONSIDERABLY taller than Xiaojiao and it makes for a fun visual.
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After a certain point Shuyin also starts regularly wearing Xiaojiao's classic varsity jacket since in this AU she tends to wear her armor more often she doesn't wear it herself much anymore
Thats it for all the Main characters that get 'Wife'-ified though, there are a few minor characters that play out the 'husband and wife' dichotomy that are in the cult, but there's only a FEW people where you're horrified but also looking at them like 'they're killing it in that look tho'
and i will say that there ARE others that get OWNED that don't get Wife'd of course. any given bad end has Macaque getting Little Brother'd of course and there is someone else in a Bad End we haven't made public yet, but it's fine it's fine
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lesbian-deadpool · 3 years
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Saving Rosie
Part One of Two: “I’m Not A Spy.”
Rosie Betzer x Reader
Words: 5,768
Warnings: WWII (and everything that comes with that era), Nazis, spy shit, arguing, alludes to execution, sadness... I think that may be it.
Request: No.
Summary: You save the woman you have grown close to over the past few years you have been undercover as a Nazi general, and now you’re going to save her family.
A/N: Me, still broken after watching Jojo Rabbit almost a year and a half ago?? It’s more likely than you think... so, apparently I write Rosie Beltzer fics now lol
Also, just some lil notes. The reader in this is undercover as a male Nazi general, and they’re not actually German in this fic.
EDIT: I accidentally tagged this as a Natasha fic lmao. I fixed it now tho.
Ko-Fi
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(Not My GIF)
***
"It's a lovely night for it, huh?"
For what? You weren't 
certain. Maybe it was the full moon. Maybe, it was the clear sky. The deserted streets, perhaps... what loomed in the following days to come.
Or maybe, just maybe. It was the woman by your side.
The woman hummed, a small sweet smile caressing her face.
"One of the better ones we've had in years. Came her strong German accent. A stark difference to yours, considering you no longer had to mask it. Around her, anyway.
Your smile mirrored hers as it brightened.
"It sure is."
"I can't believe it's almost over. And after so long..." she said, while you grunted, sitting down beside her on the small roof over the open attic window. "This unjust war is finally coming to an end."
"Okay, you're starting to sound like my commander now."
Rosie chuckled at your words, moving to softly lean into your side, keeping her head up to continue looking at the bright white stars that littered the midnight blue sky.
"Why do you always insist on meeting up here?" you grumbled, no malice in your voice, "It's a pain in the ass to get up onto the roof, from the outside, y'know?"
"You're a spy, aren't you? Aren't you supposed to be good at this stuff?"
"Oh cheeky," you laughed, lightly slapping the side of her leg, with the back of your hand. Rosie's quiet giggles following your remark, "And I'm an undercover soldier. Those are two very different things."
"Still." She shrugged.
You sat in silence for a small while. Over the few years, you and Rosie had grown close. Meeting up on her rooftop, at the dead of night, where there was no chance of anyone seeing you together, this way, becoming an almost every day occurrence.
You knew you could trust her the moment you first met, almost three years ago. After you had stolen the identity of a Nazi officer, that looked starkly like you. Luckily, there was hardly any information about this person. So, there was less chance for your cover to be blown.
Soon, the resistance that Rosie had been deeply a part of was un-earthed to you, thanks to your informant and the letter she carried. It wasn't long after that you started working with them too. Helping them better than they could ever hope, thanks to the military resources and information you brought.
"What happened to your neck?" Rosie asked, pulling you out from where you were, deep in your memories.
A hand came up to rub at your slightly sore skin.
"My informant can be cruel..."
Rosie cocked a blonde eyebrow at you, wanting an explanation from you.
You sighed, getting ready to tell her.
***
Eyes burned into the woman from all sides as her heels kicked against the polished wooden, yet stained, floor. Her light brown hair shone under the glowing lights, confidence radiating from her just the same.
"Can I help you?" a German Soldier slid in front of her, she had to stop herself from sneering at the man. For both his being a Nazi and his sweaty stench. But instead, she managed a sultry smirk.
"I'm here to see your General," she replied, in a German accent.
"Don't bother," another Soldier, this one drunk and slightly swaying, called over, from where he was pressed into the wall a few feet behind her.
"I don't think your General would take too kindly to you stealing what they paid for."
"They're gonna have fun with you," he replied, blatantly looking her up and down. Like a wolf would, to a tiny bunny, ready to devour it whole. However, the wolf was not a wolf at all, the wolf was, in fact, the bunny, and the bunny was the actual wolf.
She would tear him to shreds, given the chance.
"The General is in the usual room," the original man said, "Fair warning, though. They're not in a good mood today."
The woman began strutting down the hallway, once again. Throwing, "Aren't they always?" over her shoulder once she passed him by.
When she opened the thick wooden door you resided behind, the sounds of your continued groan began pouring through the crack.
"Sometimes I cannot believe that you got this assignment," she uttered in her original London accent, with her back pressed against the now-closed door.
You finished your groan off and took a deep breath before you uttered your reply.
"Luck-of-the-draw, I guess," you spoke from the floor where you lay on your back, with a shrug, "That, or I look strikingly alike the guy who died. The Nazi prick."
She walked over to you, one foot rising to press her heel into your neck, your thyroid resting in the open space of the shoe.
A choking noise sprang from your mouth as you flailed your limbs around gently. You knew that if she were to press any harder, she would surely manage to choke you.
"You're not suited for this job."
The brunette pressed harder against your throat before she released you. Leaving you to turn on your side, coughing and spluttering.
"Well, no shit. I'm a soldier, not a spy."
"You can tell."
"What was that all about?" You motioned to your neck. Red marks already making their way upon the tender flesh.
"We need to make it seem like we are having sex. Remember? I am supposed to be your hooker after all."
"You're a bitch, is what you are."
She scowled at you as you rolled yourself onto your stomach, sighing when you finally got to your feet.
"Where's the update?"
You hummed, almost as if you were remembering what you were here to do. Removing the crystal tumbler from your lips the whisky sloshing around inside. Reaching behind you, you pulled the file from where it was tucked into your pants and under your shirt. Handing it over to her.
"Is this it?" She asked, weighing the file in her hand, "It's very light."
"Yeah, and so's the information swimming around. Unless you wanna hear about the fish Agatha caught last weekend," you snarked back, moving to point at the file with the same hand that held your glass, "There's some good stuff in there. It's not much. But it's good."
"I'll take your word for it."
She tucked the folder into the long overcoat she wore, then you saw her eyebrows furrow.
"Aren't you supposed to take care of that?" She nodded towards the uniform jacket you had thrown across the room not long after you had entered it.
"You sneered at the fore-talked about item.
"I hate it and everything it stands for." You turned back to face her. "As soon as all of this bullshit is over, I'm burning that fucking armband. And then the rest of the fucking uniform."
"Real calm there, aren't you?"
"Don't start shit with me, Hannah." You took a large swig of your drink, almost emptying the glass. "I know that you wish you had somehow gotten this mission. But trust me, you don't fucking want it. The shit I've seen and done. The stuff that I've had to authorise, just to keep my cover. The fucking horror storied these monsters have told proudly, or as if they're fucking jokes." You were panting now. "You don't want that."
You had her startled into silence. Hannah had never expected this to come from you.
"How's the resistance?"
You grunted. Downing the rest of the brown liquor before moving to pour yourself another glass three fingers tall.
"It's going." you gave a heavy nod. "Still trying to spread the word."
Hannah hummed, slowly making her way towards you. Fingers coming up to razzle her hair, and wipe her lipstick, so it smudged onto her cheek.
"How's the blonde?"
"What-?" you were cut off when she wiped the red lipstick on her fingers across your own lips, leaving a smudge like hers there. "Ugh," you groaned, moving away from her palm, only to utter small obscenities and sounds of pain when her lipstick freehand messed up your short, slicked-back hair.
"What blonde?" you finally managed to ask.
"The one from the resistance. What's her name?" She clicked her fingers together, in realisation, "Rosie."
"Oh! Yeah, she's fine, and so are the kids."
"You seem to be taking a shine to her, from what I hear from the resistance. You and Rosie seem to be something of a dynamic duo."
Suddenly your shirt was ripped open, from the collar to your ribs. Making your eyes widen in shock.
However, you were used to this by now, so they soon returned back to their regular size.
"Yeah, we're friends."
Hannah hummed, something akin to a knowing smirk on her face. As she untucked your shirt.
"I'd keep an eye on her, though."
She opened your pants.
"She's being watched."
Breathless at what she just said, you stood stock still, watching as she walked towards the wooden door.
"Oh." Hannah stopped, her hand upon the handle, pulling some pieces of paper from her pocket and threw them to the floor, "I'll leave you to deliver the bad news."
And with that, she left.
***
You forewent telling Rosie everything from the mention of her.
Thinking it the best if she heard it differently.
"That really sounds like a spy meeting to me," Rosie said with a smirk, knowing it would annoy you to no end.
You closed your eyes before you could roll them into the back of your head. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled, "I'm not a spy."
"So, you've said," she giggled.
"You're drunk," you mumbled to yourself.
"What was that?"
"How are the kids?" you asked, clearly watching as Rosie groaned lightly. Her head down-turned, almost sad looking.
"Jojo's still obsessed with Hitler and everything. And Elsa's doing her best. But I can tell how much this is affecting her. And in what world wouldn't it?"
"She's strong." You nodded. "She'll get through it. We all will."
"And what about Jojo?"
Rosie turned to face you, hair swaying as she did. You could see the glazed look in her eye's, telling yourself to be extra vigilant with the woman upon the roof. You had to make sure she didn't fall off in her drunken state.
"Is he going to be like this for the rest of his life?"
Tears were building in her eyes now.
"Supporting evil dictators, wanting to take over the world, and fill it with hate?"
"No. No, of course not," you whispered. Reaching over, you clasped her cheeks between your rough, war-hardened hands. Wiping away her silent tears. "He's just a boy. A boy who wants to be a part of something, even if he doesn't understand what that is. What monster's he's following. He will realise one day. Trust me."
"I trust you." She nodded. "It just. It's hard. It's so hard. Especially when he plays up, like he did at dinner today."
"He did?"
She hummed with a nod.
"We're low on food right now. I had to go without to feed Elsa. But Jojo, he didn't know, obviously, so he took that too. Then he started arguing about his father-"
You inhaled sharply, shoulders tensing. But luckily for you, she didn't notice your reaction.
"-I yelled at him... we made up not long after, but I still feel awful about it. I'm a terrible mother."
"No, you're not-"
"I am-"
"No. You're not," you said firmly. Grabbing her forearm, gently moving it side to side, to get your point further across, "You're such a caring and amazing person. Your heart is so big and kind. And you're an even better mother. It's like all of that is doubled for those kids."
"Thank you," Rosie whispered, tears in her eyes once again, before she moved to wipe them away.
"Anyway, you're way better than my mother. She abandoned me at a farm. I was lucky a cow didn't shit on me."
She giggled at your little joke.
"I'm so sorry that happened to you."
"There's no need. I wouldn't change it."
Things were quiet for a few minutes when you suddenly remembered.
"Oh!" You reached into your pocket and pulled out three packages, wrapped in brown paper and tied together with string. "I guess it was just lucky that I brought these then."
"What are they?"
"Beef sandwiches, I thought you would like them."
"Oh, you're a lifesaver," she spoke in something close to a moan as she took a bite out of her sandwich.
You gave a small chuckle at the woman seated beside you, "I'd thought you'd say that. I'll have to start bringing food over to these meetings of ours because it's not like I can do it out in the open."
"People would think something was going on between us," Rosie hummed.
"You're right about that. Everyone is so bored around here. Gossip is like their life sauce."
"Would you be surprised if I told you that it was the same before the war?"
"Not at all," you laughed.
Rosie finished her sandwich, and you dreaded what was coming next.
"I need to tell you something," you almost whispered.
She bumped her shoulder against yours when you didn't continue.
"Well? What is it?"
"It... it's about your husband..."
You watched her carefully as you said that, all the while emotions, flew into her while she processed them.
She held back more tears, ones from the look on her face that she had shed more times than she could count. Face contoured into one of concealed pain. Looking away from your gentle, caring eyes while rubbing her hands together.
"He's dead, isn't he?"
"I'm afraid so." You nodded, looking out before you, into the starry night sky.
That's when you felt a tiny jolt beside you. Looking over at the blonde, you watched as a tear trickled down her cheek.
"I'm so sorry," you whispered.
With a gasp and a wet sniff, Rosie wiped her tears away.
"What happened?"
"There was a raid, some members of a resistance was there, your husband included. None of them made it... they saved the people they intended to, however."
She nodded with a sad yet proud smile.
"How long ago was this?"
You swallowed. Hating the words you were about to say.
"A little over a year ago."
You winced when you heard her sobs, ones being held in so hard just so no one could overhear her cries.
And, sickeningly so, the worst thing of all was that you didn't know how to help her.
Placing a hand upon her back, rubbing small comforting circles into her shoulder. Feeling her lean into you, face now pushed into your neck.
"I'm here. Everything's going to be alright."
You left not too long later, after already spending way too much time up on that roof.
Rosie wished you a "goodbye" with the promise that she would be fine. However, she didn't reply to you when you told her not to finish the rest of the wine. That she had been pounding for the majority of the day.
Before you arrived "home" and promptly collapsed onto the bed.
***
The afternoon sun was warm upon your face as you walked the streets of the German town. Watching as children ran around, women worked, and well, gossiped, and Nazi soldiers came and went.
Soon. You thought. This will all be over soon.
That's when you heard the murmured words from the women you had just walked past.
"Yes, the Gestapo. They're here right now."
"Who for?" the other woman asked, voice slightly higher at the aspect of such "juicy" gossip.
Sometimes it surprised you just how detached some of these people were from human lives. But then you took a step back and saw everything that was happening in the world. And you weren't surprised anymore. Just disappointed.
"The traitors wife. Beltzer."
And now you were scared.
"-They should be taking her to the square, right now."
It was like the world had slowed down as you turned to look at them, meeting their curious eyes.
The last thing you heard before taking off at a run towards the town square was a fading, "Like husband, like wife. I guess."
The people you passed by looked at you like you were insane. To see a, what they thought, General, sprinting down streets and panting like crazy, it set them on edge.
But you didn't give a damn about what anybody thought.
You just had to get to the square.
And quick.
***
By the time you got there, you had a light shine over your skin. Thanks to the sweat from both the running you had done and the worry that coursed through you.
"Remove your hands from her," came your faux German accent.
"She is a traitor to the Reich," one of the Gestapo's, seemingly the leader, replied assuredly.
"And what proof do you have of this?"
Rosie was terrified. You could see that as clear as day, no matter how she tried to keep calm. It was written all over her face.
So, you forcefully pushed their hands from the heavily breathing woman and pulling her to stand by your side and away from the group of men dressed in black suits.
"I'll have you know, we have very probable tips from some of the community-"
""Probable"?!" you shouted, causing the on edge woman beside you to jump slightly. To which you pulled her closer to you as a form of comfort. Your hand, coming to rest on her shoulder.
"Yes. Probable. We cannot have risks."
"Well, I say that it is bullshit."
"You have no jurisdiction or authority over our department."
"And I never said I did. I am saying that I vouch for this woman."
"But the tip-off's-" another man began.
"You choose to believe lonely and bored housewives over a General?!" You watched as their faces fell, and they tried to grab onto any straw they could to change your mind.
"There is still a chance-"
"There is no chance!"
"And can you be so sure?!"
"Do you really believe that I, a General, would be with her if you were right?"
"With her?" a third Gestapo asked curiously.
You knew what you had to do to get her back home, safe and away from the men trying to execute and make a spectacle of her. Just like the poor people hanging to your right.
"It means that I have been seeing her. Romantically, if you still do not fully understand, what I mean."
They didn't say anything for a few short moments, only stumbling and stuttering over their own voices.
"So, tell me. Who are you choosing to believe?"
"Uh. Y-You General."
"Good." You nodded once. "Now, I'm going to take her home. Goodbye, gentlemen," you spat. Turning on your heel, with Rosie under your arm, and walking away.
"Are you okay?" you whispered. Not drawing any attention to yourself or Rosie.
"I'm fine. Thank you for saving me," she replied in the same way.
"I wouldn't have done anything else." Your hand slipped down to the blondes dip in her lower back, helping to guide her back home. "Where are the flyers? Did you have any on you?"
"Yes. I threw them down the drain before they could see."
"Good. You did good." A squeeze to her hip before your hand returned to her lower back, just to keep up the appearance of the lie. "They're not gonna find them."
***
Rosie had relaxed more by the time you were at the bottom of her street when you saw a distinctly expensive car parked outside of Rosie's house. A car that everyone knows belongs to that of Gestapo's.
"Is Jojo home?" you asked, just stood there starring at the sight, with Rosie by your side.
"Yes," she husked.
"Shit."
And that's when you both broke out in a run.
You, being faster than Rosie, arrived at the building first. Barging through the door, with her hot on your heels.
Pounding your way up the stairs, only to come face to face with a gang of men, identically dressed to the Gestapo's, you had just saved Rosie from. Along with Jojo and Elsa, in clothes that didn't look like they belonged to her. Not to mention the demoted soldier, holding an identification book.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
"What are you doing in my house?!" you and Rosie said at the same time. Your yell angrier, compared to her more so worried one.
"We are searching the premises," the lead man, who wore round glasses, spoke. Face confused as to why Rosie was still alive. But as soon as he saw the anger chiselled upon your face. He could take a successful guess as to who had stopped the execution.
"Mama, they were just checking Inge's identification," Jojo said as his mother rushed towards him. Her hands, on his cheeks, as she checked him over.
"Oh, yes. Of course." Rosie pulled Jojo along to bring Elsa into her side, just as you had done for her mere minutes ago. "Are you both alright?"
She gained words and nods of confirmation from the two children.
"I think it's time that you all left."
"But-" one Gestapo said, looking to Rosie.
"But nothing," you continued, "I'm sure your associates will fill you in on their mistake. Now, if you are finished, I ask that you leave this house."
"We were just about to, anyway," the leader said, leading the way out for everyone. But not before the ID was handed back to the assumed Inge. With you trailing after, to slam the door behind them.
You turned, leaning your back against the wooden door, sighing deeply.
"Are they gone?" Rosie called down, leaning over the railing, to peer down at you.
The stairs creaked below you, the layer of carpet doing nothing to quiet them. You spoke your confirmation, as you reached her, "They're gone."
The kids looked like they had just been caught with their hand's in the cookie jar.
"So..." the caring woman started, "You two know about each other."
They nodded.
"For how long?"
"A couple of weeks, at most," Jojo said.
"How did you even find out about her?"
"I-I found the hatch-"
"He crawled in-"
"And I found her-"
"He was terrified."
"Was not!"
"Was too."
"Was not!"
"Was too!"
"Okay, enough," Rosie raised her voice, gaining the bickering children's attention.
Taking a breath, she ran her hands through her soft blonde hair.
"And you never told anyone?"
"No." Jojo shook his head. "I didn't want you to get into trouble..." It was at that point, he realised you were silently stood behind his mother, watching as everything unfolded and who you were.
Rosie caught this and looked over her shoulder at you.
"Don't worry," she told both of the kids, crouching down before them. Elsa's face one of mild terror.
This is when it hit you that these kids were exactly that.
Kids.
Kid's that were too scared of their mothers, or motherly figure, scolding them, than the actual, apparent danger that lurked not too far away.
"They're not going to tell anybody. They know. And won't let anything happen. To any of us." she manoeuvred to face you. "Right?"
You nodded. "Absolutely. I will do my best to protect all of you."
"Speaking of." She slowly rose to her feet, walking towards you.
The hand that Rosie placed upon your arm was gentle, almost like she was worried she would hurt you. Fingers curling into the jacket of the uniform you loathed.
"I have to speak with the General. So, you two stay up here. Understood?"
They nodded.
"Good." She pulled you through the open door, but before she could close it fully, her head popped through the door, "Oh. And we're not done yet. We still have a lot to talk about."
Then the door clicked shut.
"You're really good at that."
"What?"
"Being a mother."
"I know. You've told me before."
***
Things had changed rather quickly when you arrived downstairs.
Sat upon the blue cotton cushions of the wooden framed couch. Watching as Rosie paced around in front of you, fingertips rubbing against her full lips, worry etched across her face.
Your eyebrows shot up, and your body straightened when she turned to face you. Arms now down by her sides.
"So, we're together, huh?"
"I'm sorry," you replied, German accent dropped, "But that was the only thing that would get them to back off and drop the suspicions against you."
"I know." She nodded, completely understanding. Before her minimal composure dropped, and the worry came back. "What do we do? Jojo obviously thinks you are a traitor now. What if he tells someone?"
"He won't." You stood abruptly, taking Rosie's shoulder's into your hands, squeezing them gently. "He didn't tell anyone about Elsa when he had so many chances to do so. Hell, he had the chance, not even five minutes ago. But he hasn't said a word, purely just to keep you safe... he doesn't understand that this could hurt him and Elsa too. He doesn't know what's happening."
"But this is different-"
"Yes, it is different. It's better he thinks I'm a traitor, helping his family, than him knowing I'm an undercover soldier."
"You mean a spy?"
"Don't you start with that shit." You pointed at her playfully.
Rosie's smile dropped when a thought popped into her mind.
"Do you think they will still come back?"
"It is possible," you said honestly, "Which is why we should leave as soon as we possibly can."
"And go where?"
"Anywhere that isn't here."
"What do I tell the kids- What do I tell Jojo?" she clarified.
"The truth. You tell them that they could come back and that we all need to leave because we could all be in danger."
With her head in her hand's, the blonde scoffed tearily, "God. This fucking war."
"I know. I know."
You pulled her into your chest, letting her cry into you. Arms wound around your torso tightly.
"I hate it, For so many reasons."
"I know," you repeated again, "I feel the same."
"When will it just end? When will people be safe again?"
Deciding that it would be best to tell her the truth, you said, "I don't know. Soon I hope."
And there you sat, for a small while longer, allowing the blonde to cry into your chest.
***
You had left.
Gone to go gather some of your things, thinking it best to stay with Rosie and the kids while you were forced to stay in town.
All the while Rosie, spoke to the kids about leaving.
"I don't understand why we have to go!"
Was what you were greeted with as you entered the home.
"Because it is not safe for us here anymore," Rosie's voice came, calm but firm.
"But they won't come back."
"That's not entirely true," you spoke, entering the kitchen. Placing the leather bag you carried and the wicker basket upon the small table against the wall, you continued, "There's always a chance, no matter how small."
The young boy watched you silently for a minute. Not knowing what to say.
"Trust me, Jojo. I know how all of this works. I just want to keep you all safe, so does your mother. And this is the best way to do it.2
Jojo sighed.
"Where will we go?"
Rosie looked at you intently when her son asked this, wondering the same thing.
"We'll get out of town first. Then we'll focus on a safe place for us all to go."
"Jojo, would you. Would you go to your room, please?" Rosie asked, "I need to speak with the General, alone."
Just as the blonde boy was about to protest, he was cut off.
"Now. I also have to start preparing dinner."
He huffed and walked from the room, bounding up the stairs rather loudly.
You felt bad for the woman as you watched her grip the sides of the oven, bow her head, and give a great sigh.
"Where's Elsa?"
"She's in her hiding spot." Then she turned to face you. "Y/N, K know that Elsa isn't Inge."
"What?"
"She got Inge's birthday wrong, and he didn't say anything."
Your eye's wandered as you took in the information that was just given to you.
"Do you think he will say anything?"
"I don't know," you said with a shrug, "But I don't wanna take any chances. It's too risky."
"I agree." Rosie nodded once. "So, when do we leave."
"As soon as possible. Tonight if we can. Only pack the essentials. And not yet, we can't raise any suspicions."
Rosie's only reply and indication that she had heard you were a good few nods.
And then.
"What's in the basket?"
"Oh," you said chipperly, "Don't worry about cooking. I brought dinner."
***
Turns out "tonight" wasn't a viable option for skipping town, as with loud, almost deafening sirens of dread filled the sky came the air-raid strike.
"Wouldn't it give us a good cover, though?" Rosie had asked, preparing for bed.
You had resigned yourself to staying over, as a sort of bodyguard, while still in town. And the threat was still very much weighing in the winds.
You looked over your shoulder at her. Being spotted by her through the mirror of her vanity, where she sat. Removing her makeup and then applying some face cream.
"I'm not the only one by a window," you told her. Then moved to peer through the window, at the moving lights in the black, midnight sky. "I'm sure I heard Elsa and Jojo in the attic watching them."
"They are," she confirmed.
"See. We're not the only ones. Too many eyes. A good distraction," you admitted, "But almost impossible. And with two kids added to that? No chance."
A hum came from Rosie.
"So, what are our options?"
With a sigh, you began explaining, "People will be too jumpy tomorrow, so our best bet would be the day after."
The blonde, now ready for bed, came over to you. Moving to stand right in front of you, looking out the window herself.
"Wouldn't it be too risky, staying here that long?"
It seemed it was your turn to hum, shrugging your shoulders.
"I'd rather stay here a few more days than risk it out there. But there is a good side to these change of plans."
"And what's that?"
"Now, we can sneak stuff to the car. And won't risk being caught doing it all at night. That way, all we have to do is get in, then drive off."
"Good plan. Partner," Rosie spoke in a slight mocking about sultry tone. Which only made you roll your eyes good-naturedly.
"Yeah. Yeah. You're welcome."
"Seriously," you halted at Rosie's serious tone, raising your head to peer at her, "Thank you for everything."
"You don't have to thank me." Your lips ticked up in a small smile before you lightened the sober mood and atmosphere. "And you definitely won't be thanking me if I accidentally kick you in my sleep."
Rosie laughed at your words, watching as you said into bed beside her.
"Do not worry. If you kick me, I'll just kick you out of the bed."
"Now that's just rude."
Waking up the next morning was strange for you, to say the least.
With the bright sun shining through the thin drapes, across the cosy room, and onto the bed. Duvet lumpy above your forms.
And then there was Rosie.
The blonde pressed up against your side, head resting on your shoulder, arms curled around one of yours, still fast asleep.
Now that.
That was very unusual for you.
But then again. You were too sleepy to process anything at that moment. So instead, you just watched her breathe soothingly, looking so peaceful by your side, with your eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted in curiosity.
It was a wonder how someone could look so contest face asleep like Rosie was, with everything that is going on in the world.
The world wouldn't be that way for much longer, you thought, it was only a matter of time before everything was over.
And the same thing could be said for the blonde sleeping by your side.
The wooden door barged open, alerting you fully awake, as Jojo strutted in. Only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of you. In bed. With his mother.
You could see the slight anger in his eyes, purely out of protection for his beloved mother.
"Good morning, Jojo," Rosie said sleepily as she moved to sit up, looking at the boy with a sleepy smile.
You grunted as she pressed her palm into your abdomen to raise up into a seated position.
"What are they doing here?" he asked, nodding his head towards you.
Rosie looked over her shoulder at you, tired eyes evaluating you. Before she turned back to her son.
"There's something I forgot to tell you yesterday."
You watched the mother and child with slightly wide eyes, not uttering a word, just looking like you wanted to escape this situation.
"What did you forget?"
"The General here-" she patted your abdomen where her hand still resided. "-And I, are seeing each other."
It was a few good long moments as Jojo processed the words. You thought he was going to be angry. It would be natural. You would understand. He was a young boy, one who undoubtedly missed his father and would not be happy with his mother being with anyone else.
But you also had to understand that he idolised you, if only for your -albeit fake- position in the German military.
And yet, you were still surprised and confused by what he said next.
"A lion?"
Rosie smiled brightly, nodding her head, "A lion."
"A lion?"
That was the first thing you said that morning, and it was full of confusion.
But it fell on deaf ears.
Jojo nodded once at his mother before turning on his heel and walking from the room, without saying what he initially came in for.
"What?"
Rosie smiled at you.
"Come on, we should get moving."
The bed shook and bounced as she got up from the bed, preparing to get ready for the day.
"I'm so confused," you almost whimpered, only gaining a soft giggle in return.
***
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disgustingtoast · 3 years
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my shitty, shitty minho fic that took ages [tmr minho]
I'm sick of rereading this so here is 3.5k words of shitty, self indulgent writing. The confession could have 100% been more heartfelt but I'm sick of looking this in my google docs. There is most definitely a ton of mistakes but idc <3
this isn't really enemies to lover but the whole dynamic minho and the reader have kinda wrote itself lmao
HERE YOU MFS- @agathallalongs @blanknamed
You were fine with the way you woke up. Hell, you preferred it over some snot-nosed kid coming in and waking you up. And as it turns out, having the same schedule for a little under a year makes for a great internal clock, the habit of getting up in time for your daily run already having been instilled in you for months. So when you’re pulled from the peaceful lulls of sleep because of the feeling of being flipped upside down and landing face-first into the dirt floor of the Glade, you were rightfully peeved.
“Rise and shine shank.”
Minho. Of course it was Minho.
“I’m gonna throw you off the Cliff the minute we’re far enough into the Maze.” Sitting up, you try to rub off the dirt that got on your face when you face planted, scowling at the stains that litter the front of your shirt. “This was a new shirt too.”
“Were you thinking of going running with me or do you plan on sitting in the dirt all day?” Despite him being out of sight you can practically see the smug look he’s wearing. “Hey, maybe you can convince Winston to let you get in the pig pen so you can take a nice mud bath.”
Groaning, you finally stand up and turn around to face him. He’s standing with his arms crossed, holding a paper bag which you presumed had your lunch in it on the other side of your hammock, your very, very twisted hammock.
“Why the hell did you wake me up? I get up fine on my own.”
He shrugs in response, “I just felt like it.”
“You just felt like waking me up or you just felt like getting the world record for ‘biggest pain in the ass’?”
“A bit of both, and seeing your face when you spat out that dirt made you so much more attractive.”
Heat crawls up your neck in embarrassment, “Slim it.” Furrowing your eyebrows in frustration, you gesture in front of you to the tangled mess that hangs between you, “Also you’re gonna fix that.”
“No. It’s your bed.”
“You’re the one who flipped me over! Fix it.”
He stares at you for a second before turning on his heel and jogging off. While he turns to leave you barely catch the way his lips quirk into a smirk. As you watch his retreating figure you can feel your fingers twitch, the urge to strangle him suddenly overwhelming.
“Hey! Get back here shuck-face!” As quickly as you can, you slip your shoes on, not bothering to tie them and pull the leather harness over your head. After one last disapproving glance at your pathetic hammock you’re off, racing after Minho in an effort not to let him get too far ahead. If he beat you to the Doors you’d never hear the end of it.
By the time you catch up with him you’re out of breath. Everytime you would get closer than a few feet behind him he’d run a little faster keeping you at a good few paces behind him, succeeding at prolonging your ever-growing exasperation.
Eventually though he lets you catch up until you’re running side by side, a few meters away from the Walls. “This prison wouldn’t be half as bad if the Creators had put anyone else in here other than you. Preferably someone cuter, without such a punchable face.” You don’t have to look at him to imagine the offended look on his face, one of his most punchable expressions actually.
“I am by far the most attractive guy here. The rest of these shanks look like klunk in cargo shorts.”
“Yeah no. You don’t even break the top 21 on my list.” Once you reach the wall, you lean against it, waiting for the doors to open. When you look at Minho he quirks an eyebrow.
“You have a list?” He pauses for a moment, “Wait there’s only 22 gladers. You included yourself on your own list?”
“Good job! I wasn’t sure if you knew how to count.”
“Slim it. So who’re the top 3?”
You pause for a moment pretending to mull it over. “Well, Gally’s got that whole tall and brooding thing going. And Nick, well I like a man who can take charge-”
“Yeah, yeah okay I get it.” He waves his hand in the air rather indignantly, dismissing what you said. After a minute of silence. the grating sound of rock being dragged against rock echoes through the Glade as the Doors finally start to open. As he tightens the straps of his harness, Minho glances down at the ground and pauses for a moment before he snickers, “You better tie your shoes if you don’t want to trip and ruin your pretty face. Might knock you down a few pegs on that list of yours.”
~
It had been hours since you’d left the Glade, running the familiar course of the Maze. The only entertainment being watching the way the back of Minho’s neck turns a lovely shade of red every time you make a particularly irritating comment.
“Hey it’s getting late. We should go back to the Glade.”
Minho shakes his head in disbelief. “It’s not that late. We still have plenty of time to get back.”
“But I finally convinced Fry to make bacon and there's no way that they’ll be any left unless we get there early.” You draw out the last syllable in a whine, knowing exactly how to get under his skin.
He pivots, still continuing to run just now facing backwards. “Is Frypans bacon really more important than finding a way out of this hell hole?”
“Yes!”
“...Fine-” His sigh of annoyance is cut off abruptly as he trips, falling backwards and landing with a loud huff as the air is knocked out of his lungs.
“Shit, Minho!” You kneel beside him as he lays still, “Are you okay?!” Your voice seems to ricochet off the walls.
It takes a moment before he groans, his eyes still closed. “Why are you so shucking loud?”
“Sorry. Are you okay?” Quieting your tone, you hover over him.
He finally opens his eyes, “M’ fine. I just tripped.” Pushing himself up, he tries to stand but the minute he puts pressure on his ankle he gasps in pain, stumbling into you as you stand to catch him.
“Shit. Okay, you just need to sit down.” You lead him over to the wall, letting him support himself against it before he slides down to sit. When he stretches his legs out in front of him you take to kneeling again, this time next to his feet. Rolling back the bottom of his pant leg you check to see how bad his ankle is and judging by the wincing and the gritting of his teeth you’re betting on not good.
It’s only been a minute but you feel your heart drop at the way it’s already swollen and starting to bruise. You frown as you press your finger against it lightly, snapping your hand back as Minho recoils, growling in pain.
“Don’t touch it!”
“Fine. Good luck finding someone else in here that’ll help you. I’m sure the Grievers would be happy to assist.”
“It just hurts asshole, no need to get snappy.”
“Yeah, yeah just stop your whining you big baby.”
He cringes as you begin to prod his ankle again and sets his head back to rest against the wall.
“Well I’d say it’s just a fracture, it doesn't look too messed up- Minho?” He doesn’t respond. “Hey! Minho!” You reach in front of his face and snap your fingers, “C’mon I need you to wake up!”
He moans as he opens his eyes, well squints his eyes. He can barely keep them open half way, “Why is it so bright in here?”
Furrowing your eyebrows you glance up, it really isn’t that bright, gray clouds float across the majority of the sky and cover most of the sun. Looking back at his face, you can’t stop the nauseating feeling of fear that gnaws in your stomach. “Here, move your head off the wall, I need to check something.”
The dark stain on the wall where he was resting against is enough evidence but some irrational, hopeful part of you checks anyways, reaching around him and pressing your fingers to the back of his head. When you bring your hand back, your fingers are covered in blood.
“Damn it.” You try your hardest to push down the anxiety thundering in your stomach as you grab Minho’s arm and wrap it around your shoulder. Now is not the time to panic. “We need to get you back to the Glade.”
~
You’re not surprised he’s heavy, almost a year of running almost everyday tends to build up a lot of muscle however that doesn't make it any easier for you to carry him. You had to have been stumbling around for hours before you had to fully set him down to catch your breath.
“You really need to lay off Fry’s cooking. I’m telling him that you’re going on a diet the minute we get back.”
You only get silence in response, prompting you to look over and make sure he hadn’t passed out again. His eyes were open but his mind seemed to be elsewhere, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes focusing on something on the wall across from the one you were leaning against. You raise your hand and rest it against his shoulder, “Minho?”
“You need to leave me behind.”
The nauseous feeling returns, “What? No way I’m leaving you here to be Griever food.”
His face twists in frustration as he turns to look at you. “We’ll both be killed if you don’t get the hell out!”
“We still have time! I can carry you the rest of the way just fine.” Grabbing his wrist you pull his arm across your shoulders, tightening your grip when you feel him try to tug his arm back. “We’re going.” You wrap your arm around his waist to support him as you force him to stand.
He tries to pull away, “Why are you being so shucking stubborn! I can barely walk! There’s no way you’ll make it time before the Doors close.”
“Well that’s tough for me I guess.” You begin to walk forward, trying to adjust the way his body weight rested against you.
He begins to say your name but you interrupt him, “No! I’m not leaving you and that’s final.” Cursing the slight waver in your voice you continue to look ahead, choosing to ignore the frustrated look on his face.
It doesn’t take long for exhaustion to set in, Minho seeming to weigh even more every ten minutes. As you drag your feet across the uneven floor, the toe of your shoe catches on a crack, sending you both stumbling forward for what seems like the fiftieth time. The only difference is that this time you aren’t able to catch yourself, fatigue catching up with you and sending both you and Minho careening forward.
Stabbing pain shoots through your legs as you fall to your knees, the sound of Minho groaning in pain causes waves of guilt to wash over you. The sudden realization of just how dire your situation seems to suffocate you.
This was all your fault, if you hadn’t been so annoying Minho never would have tripped. If you were strong enough you would have been able to carry him all the way. Why weren’t you strong enough?
The soft call of your name shakes you out of your stupor, it’s followed by a hand pressed against the side of your face. It’s only when his thumb swipes against your cheek that you realize you’re crying.
“I’m sorry.” You shift slightly until you’re sitting down, knees pulled up to your chest. He follows and sits next you with his legs stretched out, hissing as he accidentally drags his ankle across the ground. “This is my fault.” Staring at the exposed part of his ankle, your stomach swirls at the dark purple bruising.
When he notices you staring he’s quick to pull his pant leg down, “This isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have been running backwards.” He watches you for a second, contemplating, before he speaks again, “You can still leave now and make it.”
“I’m not talking about this again.”
“Why not-”
“I just can’t leave you behind okay! It would kill me knowing that I got us into this mess and I couldn’t get both of us out alive.”
“So you’re just going to kill yourself because you would feel bad if you didn’t?” At his harsh words you whip your head to look at him, surprised to find him angry, his nose flaring and teeth gritting.
“Why are you getting so mad?! And you know it’s more than that! I’m not leaving you here, you can yell all you want but it’s not going to change anything.”
He throws his hands up in the air in indignation, “Why?! Why do you have to be so stubborn!” His tone is harsh and he practically spits his words at you.
A flurry of emotions lodges in your throat and a burning, hot anger ignites in the deepest pits of your stomach. Your lips are moving faster than your brain can process, “Because I love you, you idiot! I can’t just leave you behind because you're the reason I haven’t jumped the shucking Cliff yet!” Your heart is beating impossible fast and for a split second you wonder if it’s going to beat right out of your chest. You watch as Minho’s face morphs into an expression of shock and before you can identify the emotion swirling in his eyes you swear you can hear someone's footsteps.
You scramble to your feet, straining your ears in hopes that you weren’t imagining it. In the distance you hear the rushed strides of someone running in your direction and you swear you feel your heart skip a beat. It was far too late for another runner to be out in the Maze.
“Hey!” Cupping your hands around your mouth you hope they hear you. You hear Minho grunt and the sound of him dragging against the stone wall as he stands.
His voice rings through Maze as he calls out.
After a moment of tense silence you hear the quick foot falls of another runner getting closer before you spot his familiar blond hair turning the corner.
“Ben! Oh my god!”
He comes to a stop in front of you, his expression worried, “What are you guys still doing here? The Doors are closing soon!”
“Minho got hurt and I wasn’t able to carry him all the way back. Why are you out so late?”
“I figured I’d stay out later than usual. Had a bad feeling.” He glances over your shoulder to look at Minho. “We need to get going if we want to make it in time.”
Nodding your head, you turn around and make your way over to where Minho is leaning against the wall. You can feel his eyes on you, pleading for you to look at him but you’re adamant at avoiding eye contact. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Ben glancing back and forth between you, no doubt feeling the tension.
Having someone else there to help made carrying Minho infinitely easier and the three of you stumbled through the doors just as they began to groan, closing behind you.
“What took you so bloody long?” The familiar accent of Newt floats across the Glade but you’re too exhausted to even look in his direction. It isn’t until he’s standing right in front of you that you tear your eyes from Ben and Minho as they make their way to the Med-Jack hut.
“Minho fractured his ankle and got a concussion.” Your hands clench in anger as you speak, “If it hadn’t been for Ben we wouldn’t have made it out.”
“Aren’t you going to go check on him?” Newt frowns at you.
The thought of being in the same room with Minho after you practically dumped your heart out on him made your stomach churn. “No, I think- I think I’m just going to let him rest for now.”
Newt opens his mouth to comment, no doubt going to point out that you never left Minho’s side but you’re quick to interrupt him. “I’m exhausted. I’m going to go shower and get some rest.” You force a smile and begin to walk in the direction of the showers before he’s able to speak.
It seems to take ages to get to the bathrooms. Fatigue makes your limbs feel sluggish and the adrenaline of being in the Maze ebbs away, leaving aching muscles in its wake. You can’t seem to shake the thoughts of Minho as you scrub yourself clean. He probably wanted nothing to do with you and your big fat mouth. If you’d only bitten your tongue for another minute you wouldn’t have this looming air of regret suffocating you.
The regret seems to pull tighter against your throat when you notice your hammock, still twisted from this morning. Tears gather at your waterline, threatening to spill over. The view in front of you is distorted and watery and your fingers fumble with the twisted strings before you give up, whining in frustration.
You pause for a moment before turning in the direction of the Med-Jack hut, your heart desperately yearning to see him. Before you have time to think, you’re wiping your teary eyes with the back of your hand and practically jogging to the little run down shack, ignoring the throbbing pain in your legs.
Hesitating at the door you take a deep breath, steadying yourself before you’re pushing against it. The room is silent, both Clint and Jeff having left and gone to bed. Scanning the room you notice a bed in the corner, Minho sleeping peacefully under it’s covers. His face slack as he rests, his forehead covered by a thin, white bandage that stretches around his head. As you silently pull up a chair to his bedside you study him, it isn’t often you get to see his face when it isn’t creased with stress or in any expression other than a smirk.
Smiling softly. you reach up and pull his blanket up a little higher until it covers his shoulders, the night had a cold edge to it despite it being well into summer. After sitting there for a few minutes your eyelids begin to get heavy, like something was weighing them down. For a moment the idea of walking back to your hammock crosses your mind but you immediately dismiss it, just thinking about getting up is exhausting. You cross your arms on the side of his bed and rest your head against them. It doesn’t take long before the comfort of sleep consumes you.
Garbled words and the feeling of something brushing against your face is what wakes you this time. Opening your eyes, the first thing you notice are Minho’s pretty brown ones staring back at you, the next thing you notice are the hushed snickers from behind you. Shooting up straight you feel the warm rush of embarrassment flood your cheeks.
“It was about time you woke up!” Clint pipes up, “Lover boy here hasn’t stopped staring at you since we came in here to check on him.”
This time, pink begins to tint Minho’s cheeks and creep up his neck, “Slim it! Get outta here would ya?”
“Okay! We’re going!” You turn around just in time to see Clint pushing Jeff out the door and throwing you a wink before shutting the door.
The awkwardness is palpable as you stare down at your lap. The bed creaks as Minho shifts to sit up against the headboard, the sound seeming incredibly loud in the silence. Mustering up your courage you finally speak.
“I’m sor-”
“I love you too!’
Your head shoots up as he interrupts you, eyes wide as you take in his expression that mirrors your own.
“What?”
His body language tells you that he had most definitely not meant to say that, his mouth moving up and down as he tries to figure out what to say.
Your heart catches in your throat as you process his words, “You love me?”
At the slow nod of his head, a beaming smile splits your face, and before you can stop yourself you're pulling him into a crushing hug. Caught off guard, he stiffens for a moment as you wrap your arms around him but as soon as you let out a shaky breath against his neck he winds his arms around you.
“Is this okay?”
At your hushed tone he pulls you tighter against him, “This is more than okay.”
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snackhobi · 4 years
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pairing: jimin x reader / word count: 8.8k / genre: smut, established relationship, driftracer!au
summary: Jimin’s been pretty busy recently and you’re starting to feel neglected. Guess you’ll just have to make him pay attention somehow.
warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), unsafe driving (back at it with the street racing), cursing, mild degradation, fingering, spanking, unprotected sex (it goes without saying but please use protection guys), creampie, controlled orgasm (delay), multiple orgasms (f receiving), dirty talk, pet names
THIS IS A FOLLOW UP TO ‘CATCH YOUR DRIFT’— please read the original first
a/n: to everyone who was asking about a cyd follow-up—here it is! it’s basically a pwp with the flimsiest of plots lmao. enjoy!! x
--
“Jimin's up to something.”
“Huh?” Jungkook looks away from where he’s been fiddling with something in the Pontiac’s engine. “What?”
“Jimin,” you repeat, slowly. “He’s up to something.”
Park Jimin. Breathtaking, captivating, gorgeous Park Jimin—unstoppable in his sleek black Nissan Skyline GTR, a master in his element, relentless, incredible. Your rival and main competitor on the track. The one person who challenges you, who you measure yourself against, who you always strive to beat.
Park Jimin. Your boyfriend.
“He’s been… weird lately,” you say, uncharacteristically hesitant. 
Jungkook looks a little baffled but also concerned, eyes darting over in the same direction as yours. Jimin’s already kissed you good luck, a soft, lingering touch of his lips against yours before returning to his own car, and you’ve been watching him get ready for tonight’s race. He lounges against his black Skyline and laughs at something that Yoongi and Taehyung are talking about, looking every inch the king that he is.
Jimin is as striking and dazzling as always, jacket covered in jewels that burst outwards like fireworks, the cut of his metallic shirt low enough to reveal his collarbones and smooth skin of his chest. The only understated part of his outfit is the pair of unadorned silver hoops in his ears, simple and elegant. A gift from you that he wears every time you race.
Jungkook’s eyebrows raise a little. “What do you mean he’s up to something?” 
Honestly, being with Jimin is a dream. At first you’d been concerned that your competitive natures would clash and that being opponents on the drifting circuit would cause friction in your relationship—but it actually works out really well. Jimin makes you strive to be a better person, the best you can be, both on and off the track. You’re both as invested in giving each as much attention as you do to winning races, and the truth is that a lot of the fierceness you show on the track melts away entirely when you’re alone together: it just highlights how multifaceted and incredible Jimin is.
He’s a ruthless competitor. He’s also sweet and caring and kind and he always makes time for you. 
Or at least, he normally does.
“He keeps saying he’s busy, and he seems to be distracted when we’re together,” you admit to Jungkook in a low hush. There’s no one within hearing distance of your Pontiac but you’re still cautious. Your relationship with Jimin is well known throughout the circuit now and you don’t want people overhearing intimate details about it. It’s none of their business. “I don’t know, Kookie, it’s… it’s concerning. I guess.”
You’re usually self-assured and confident but right now you sound unsure. Jungkook’s known you for years and years and is one of your closest friends, but even so, admitting this to him is difficult—and he knows it. 
Jungkook pulls the hood of your car down, shutting it with firm hands before he leans across the metal towards you. “Have you tried asking him about it?” 
“Of course.”
“What did he say?”
“We, uh, got distracted,” you say, and Jungkook makes a face at the implication.
“Maybe next time you’re trying to have a serious conversation you shouldn’t let yourself get ‘distracted’?” He raises his eyebrows as he lifts his hands to make air quotations at you and you pout.
“But his ass is just so perfect, can you blame me?”
“Okay, that’s it, I’m out,” Jungkook says while looking pained, and you can’t help but laugh.
Later, though, when you beat Jimin in the race, he lavishes attention on you like he always does—you’d barely inched out ahead of him tonight and so he takes his time when he works you up, touch light and teasing as he runs his hands over you. Your head tilts forward as you pant, bent over the hood of his car as he fingers you open, deep and slow. Just the way you like it, even if you’re hungry for more.
“Jimin, please.” Your voice is desperate as you beg and try to rock against his fingers, get him to move faster. “I need you inside me, god—”
Your words choke off when you feel a sharp smack against the bared skin of your ass, a small punishment for your impatience. You let out a gasp that turns into a quiet moan, turning to hide your face in your elbow to try and stifle the noise as Jimin’s hands immediately soothe over the touch, soft as he rubs over your heated skin.
“Patience, baby.” His voice is low. “You’ll get my cock when you’re nice and ready. Okay?”
“Okay,” you murmur, a little breathless. “I just want you so bad.”
You’re still turned away from him but you can hear the affection in Jimin’s answer as he leans forward to kiss the sensitive skin just behind your ear. “I know, sweet thing.”
Once he finally sinks his cock into you, it doesn’t take long for him to pull you over the edge, your nails scraping against the warm metal of his car as your body goes tense and you cum. Jimin follows soon after, spilling himself inside you as you shiver and clench around him, trying to draw him in as deep as possible; no matter how many times he fucks you open it never gets old, the way you can feel his body move against yours, the way he gasps and moans as he reaches his own edge, the way he holds you close as you both go lax against each other, warm and tender.
“Are you free on Saturday?” You’re perched on the hood of his Nissan afterwards, arms curled around his neck as you pull away to look up at him. “I thought you might want to come over for dinner and a film? You can choose which one we watch, I’m not picky.”
A quick expression flits across Jimin’s face, faster than you can identify, before it turns apologetic. “Sorry, baby. I’m busy this Saturday. How about next week?”
“Oh,” you say. “Okay. Um. Do you want to… grab a quick lunch instead? Or something? When you’re free?”
Jimin turns his face into your hair, nuzzling into your scalp before he kisses the crown of your head. “I think I’ll be busy all weekend, but I’ll let you know, okay?”
You pause and try to hide the surprising amount of pain and confusion that shoots through you at his subtle dismissal, schooling your features before Jimin pulls away to look at you. “Okay baby,” you say brightly. “I hope you have a good weekend, either way.”
Jimin cups your face gently as he smiles at you, all warmth and open affection before he dips down to softly kiss you on the lips. “I will.”
--
If you didn’t trust Jimin so much you’d think he was cheating on you.
You know that Jimin has his own life outside of you and you’re okay with that. You honestly are. It’s not that you want to monopolise his time, but he’s usually so willing to give it to you without you even asking—so now that it seems like he’s pulling away, it’s all the more pronounced when it happens, and you can’t help but wonder why. You’re trying not to be pushy and you haven’t outright demanded Jimin tell you what he’s so busy with; it must be important if he’s prioritising it over you and keeping it a secret, right?
Right?
You’re not needy or overbearing or clingy, but you are a tad possessive, and you can’t help but feel jealous of whatever it is that’s catching Jimin’s attention so much.
“Uh.” Taehyung’s eyes are wide. “Y/n, uh… your bra is? Kind of? Showing a little bit?”
“I know Tae, but thank you.” You take one last glance at yourself in your wing mirror before straightening up, content with how you look tonight. “I can assure you it’s entirely intentional.”
You usually opt for feminine outfits when you race, but they’re never normally this revealing; it’s borderline scandalous, really. Your bra is visible through the lace mesh of your shirt and your skirt is hiked so high it barely covers your ass, pleats fluttering each time you move. The thing that’s covering you the most is actually your pink leather jacket, but even that’s not enough to hide you from any eyes that are roving over you.
But the real kicker—the part of the outfit that would let anyone with discerning eyes know that you’re aiming for aesthetic over practicality—are your shoes. Your over-the-knee suede boots have a killer heel and they have got to be the worst things to drive with, the heels making it hard to shift your feet when you need to slam them onto the pedals, but you don’t care.
“I still think you should try talking to Jimin instead of doing… this,” Jungkook says, waving an arm at you.
“You just gestured to all of me.” You raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow. Not that you don’t always look good, of course, but tonight you’ve pulled out all the stops and it shows.
“That’s my point,” Jungkook groans. “If I nearly catch sight of your butt cheeks one more time I’m going to call the police. I’m feeling distinctly harassed.”
“You should be grateful.” You blow him a kiss and Jungkook makes a face.
“I’m going to call 911.”
“We’re not in America, Kookie,” Taehyung says. Jungkook just sighs.
Seokjin’s organised the meet at a car park in Gangnam tonight, and you watch as the lot starts to fill up, tweaked Supras and Skylines and Fairlady Zs whose engines rumble as their drivers descend into the underground level, filling the basement with noise. There are unfamiliar faces you don’t recognise, rich residents of Seoul’s most expensive neighbourhood rolling out to show off their money by way of their beautiful cars. 
You know a lot of these people won’t be racing tonight and they’re just here for the novelty of it all. Good for them. You have other things on your mind.
(If Jimin isn’t going to give you time when you want it, then you’re not going to let him take it when he wants it.  He hasn’t turned up yet but you know the second he sees you he won’t be able to keep his eyes off you—but tonight you’re not going to let him have you.)
You’re perched on the hood of your flame-red Pontiac as you wait for everyone to finish turning up, pretending to be absorbed in checking your nails as you cross your legs; you don’t have to look up to know that people are staring at you and your shameless behaviour. 
They can watch. You’re not doing this for them.
You glance up at the sound of a deep rumble, almost a purr, and your eyes widen at the sight of the next car that rolls into view. It must be the only time you’ve ever been caught off guard by an unfamiliar vehicle and you don’t even have to pretend to be overawed, breathless as you take in the gorgeous sight. 
She’s low and sleek and magnificent, stark black cut through with a thick ribbon of blood red that rises over the car's bonnet and roof, matching the crimson wheel trims and strip of colour that trails over the edge of its spoiler. The LED headlights glow white and red, crimson halo rings shimmering through the pristine and unmarked glass. She’s all smooth lines and curved edges, every contour a graceful stroke that builds up into a masterpiece, heavenly and bewitching all at once.
“Holy fuck,” you breathe, and for the first time since you started racing, you approach someone’s car before you even know who they are.
The driver is a man you don’t recognise. He’s stepped out of the car and is leaning against it casually, arms crossed and head tilted as he surveys the other motors lined up nearby, running a hand through his dyed brown hair to push it away from his forehead. He’s tall and handsome with his defined cupid’s bow and hooded eyes, and he’d almost look sleepy if he wasn’t watching you so intently, noticing your approach and keeping his eyes on you as you step forwards.
“Oh my god. A Dodge Viper?” You can’t begin to imagine the exportation costs for this thing and how much it must have cost to get the parts to modify it, let alone maintain it. (But Gangnam is an incredibly wealthy area, after all, so you’re not too surprised.)
“You like it?” The Viper’s owner tilts his head at you, a small smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “I can take you for a drive later if you’d like, beautiful.”
“Trust me, if I was sitting in this car, I’d be behind the wheel,” you say. “I bet she drives like a dream. How did you get your hands on an SRT-10 ACR? In Seoul?”
His smirk grows wider. “Brought it with me from Chicago.” He shrugs carelessly, as if it can’t have cost him a small fortune. Like the money means nothing to him. Pocket change. Holy shit. “You wanna take that seat behind the wheel to see if it suits your fancy?”
It does. You run your hands over the leather seats and tilted wheel, pretending to hide a laugh behind your hand as the driver, Johnny, leans into the car to adjust the seat for you; you spread your legs so he can reach between them to pull the bar before he can move the chair, helping you hitch it forwards so you can reach the pedals with your feet, your legs shorter than his. It’s nothing lewd but it’s undeniably flirtatious, even if you’re more focused on drinking down the car’s beautiful interior than pandering to his attention on you.
Johnny holds a hand out to help you step out of the low car and back onto your feet, taking a second to steady yourself on your heels. You’ve been so focused on the Viper that you haven’t been paying attention to the other vehicles that now fill the parking lot, but over Johnny’s shoulder you notice a car that’s as familiar as your own by now—Jimin’s black Skyline.
Your hand is still lingering in Johnny’s as you take the sight in. Jimin looks surprisingly flashy today, jewel embellished bomber jacket catching the eye, Gucci shirt tucked into leather trousers that are cinched tight against his waist by his belt, highlighting his thick thighs and perfect ass. Still pink-haired and always gorgeous. Your beautiful, charming, wonderful boyfriend.
When you make eye contact with him for the first time that night, a hot shiver shoots through you, goosebumps rising over your skin. Jimin’s lips are a firm line and his eyes are dark through the soft touch of faint eyeshadow, and he looks almost impassive, cold; even when you’d first met, back when you’d been nothing more than opponents, he’d never looked like this. 
He’s furious.
He doesn’t come over to wish you good luck today and you don’t approach him either.  Even if this hadn’t been your aim to begin with, who can blame you? You’ll work with this. Maybe it’s passive aggressive, maybe it’s petty, but if Jimin isn’t going to give you the time of day you can’t be blamed if you’re feeling starved for attention, right?
Johnny might be watching, and others might be staring, but at the end of the day you’re only ever aware of one man—and Jimin knows that. 
You’ve been driving your Pontiac for long enough that adding heels to the mix doesn’t throw you off as much as people might expect (besides, you’ve been practicing). Even so, it wouldn’t matter if they did, because you’re not wearing them to help achieve a victory—for the first time ever, you don’t care if you beat Jimin today. Not on the track, anyway. You wanted him wound up and frustrated, desperate to touch you, and it seems like he is.
It shows in his driving. He’s always a sight to behold when he races, swaying his body into the motion of his car as they dance together, every motion practiced and sure. But tonight his actions are sharp and angry. Jimin curls his Skyline into each turn, hard and fast; the Nissan almost seems to float as he pulls the steering wheel and sets the wheels at the perfect angle to achieve his drift, swinging effortlessly around the crescents of safety cones of today’s course. 
He beats you. 
And yet you’re the one who’s smiling. You step out of your car and take in his frosty expression; your heart pounds in your chest but you pretend to be unaffected, disappearing into the throng of fans who are hollering in excitement for the after party now that all the races have finished. 
“Oh, hey, Y/n!” Hoseok seems unperturbed when you loop your arm through his, staying cheerful as you latch onto him. He’s still one of the few drivers who you actually like and trust to not be lecherous towards you, no matter what you’re wearing. “Wow, you’re a lot taller than normal. Where’s Jimin?”
“Don’t know,” you say. It’s true—he’d disappeared after the race and you have no idea where he’s gone, but you know you’ll find him eventually. Or he’ll find you. You always find each other in the end. “Where are the drinks? Is there anything non-alcoholic?”
Hoseok manages to find some cans of coke, much to your delight. He tilts his own can against yours in a cheers motion as you continue to cling to him, sipping your drink, eyes scanning the crowd for where your boyfriend might have disappeared to. 
By the time your can is empty and drained of liquid, Jimin has yet to appear. You frown. It’s not like him to be gone for so long, even if he’s angry right now. You unravel your arm from Hoseok’s and pat his cute cheek as a thank you for letting you hold onto him for so long before you slip away from the after party; you’re uninterested in keeping up the facade of having fun if Jimin isn’t around. 
The elevator is deserted when you step into it, pressing the button to take you to the roof, where you’d left your Pontiac after finishing the race earlier. It’s starting to get chilly and your sheer top does nothing to protect you from the nip in the air. You draw your leather jacket closer around you once the elevator doors open, stepping out onto the rooftop and towards your Solstice. 
There are no lights up here but you don’t need any. Gangnam never sleeps, lights from billboards and skyscrapers washing over each of the buildings, and the sky is clear tonight too—the moon is shining down, silver and bright. You spot a familiar silhouette, bathed in white light where he sits atop your Pontiac’s hood, leaning back on his palms in the way he always does.
Jimin’s the only person who's allowed to touch your car like that.
You let your jacket fall back open as you approach. Jimin’s eyes flicker over to you, his face remaining hard as he watches. A cold shiver runs down your spine but you hold your ground—you’re not about to bow down immediately in the face of his quiet frustration.
Jimin’s eyes slide over you, taking every inch of you in; each part of your revealing outfit, your flawless makeup, your boots, their unnecessary heel. Even though you know he’s angry right now you can tell he likes what he sees and you can’t help but feel pleased about it. 
“Come here, sweet thing,” he says. He spreads his knees apart so you can stand between his legs, because of course you immediately comply with him; he lifts one hand off the car’s bonnet to grasp your chin in his hands, tilting your face down towards him. He doesn’t let go. His grasp is firm. “Any reason why you’re so dolled up today?”
“Nope.” You pop your lips loudly around the p. “No reason at all. Why, do I need a reason to want to look pretty?”
Jimin’s grip tightens and his eyes narrow. Wrong answer. A small puff of air escapes you, knees weak—you’ve never seen Jimin so affected by anything and you feel weirdly powerful at this realisation. There’s something thrilling to know that only you can get under his skin like this.
“Of course not.” Jimin’s voice is deceptively smooth and low, something burning in his gaze. “Just seems to me like my baby wanted everyone’s eyes on her tonight, for one reason or another.”
You stay silent. You don’t want everyone’s eyes on you: you just want his.
Jimin crooks one of his eyebrows at you as you remain quiet. He takes his hand off your chin and lets it fall, dragging it over the lace of your top, through the valley of your breasts and down your stomach before slipping under the hem, splaying his hand over your belly. You can’t help but shiver, body singing under his touch when he draws his nails lightly over your skin. The sight of his hand against you, visible through the netting of your shirt, sets the blood to rising in your veins.
“Oh? Shy all of a sudden, baby?” His eyebrow is still raised as he watches your movements, the way you react to him so easily, always attuned to his touch. “Where was all that shyness earlier, hm? You seemed so bold behind the wheel of that little Viper.”
“I was just having a look,” you say, acting a little pettish. You hadn’t been planning on letting Jimin touch you, but—but you’re so weak for him, and besides, you don’t want him thinking that you’re shying away from his hands because you’d been talking to Johnny earlier.
Jimin rises, pulling his hand from under your shirt as he does. “And everyone was looking at you,” he says. You know he can be possessive and it’s fine, because you are too, and you have no eyes for anyone else but him; normally he likes it when people look at you, because they don’t have a chance and he knows it. “Do you like it when people watch you, sweet thing?”
He punctuates this question with a movement of his hands, one coming to rest at your collarbones, the other sliding between your legs with no warning, running his fingers over the material of your underwear. You jolt in surprise, sucking in a breath.
“You want me to take you right here, hm?” His fingers are rubbing small, tantalisingly light circles over your clit, your panties a maddening barrier between your skin and his. “Bend you over and fuck you on this rooftop where anyone could see?”
Your cunt clenches, entire body going tight at the idea, and Jimin’s eyes darken when he notices. He flips your positions, and your hand fly out to brace yourself against the hood of your car as Jimin shoves the material of your skirt upwards, bunching it around your waist, revealing the scalloped edges of your skimpy lace underwear and the two tiny bows that adorn the centre line of them.
“You want me to call everyone up here? Let them see how well you take my cock?” Jimin continues to run his palms over the flesh of your ass as he speaks. He digs his fingers into your skin and a moan slips out of your lips, the pain shooting through you and dulling into pleasure. “I bet you want them to touch you too, don’t you?”
“No,” you insist. “No, Jimin, only want you—”
“You expect me to believe that you’re not a hungry little cockslut, dressed the way you are tonight, hm?”
You’re blindsided by the arousal that floods through you. You know that Jimin doesn’t think that, not really, but the way he lets the degradation fall from his lips has your toes curling.
“I only want your cock,” you say, trembling. Any rush of power you felt earlier is gone. Jimin is entirely in control now and you both know it. “Wanted you to look at me—dressed pretty for you—”
“Oh, sweet thing,” Jimin hums, sounding indulgent. “You were just feeling needy, was that it?”
“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, need you so much.”
God. You’re so weak and needy right now, and it’s crazy how much power Jimin has over you; you’ve never been so ready and willing to surrender yourself up before, your earlier planning and resolve slipping away almost as soon as Jimin had laid his hands on you. But what you have with Jimin is built on trust, and you trust him enough to be vulnerable in front of him, to let him see how hungry and desperate you are for his touch.
Then again, he’s always hungry for you, too.
He strokes his hands down your ass and thighs before he circles his hand around your throat to pull you up. He puts no pressure behind his fingertips but you feel helpless anyway, breathless as he pulls you flush against him, your back to his chest, head tilted upwards with how his hand is resting around your throat.
Jimin’s voice is pitched low and his breath is warm against your ear as he lets the words curl out of his mouth. “What does my baby need?”
Oh, he does so love to hear you beg. Your eyes flicker towards a sudden flash of light; there’s someone using the elevator, panel lighting up, letting you know they’re on the way to the rooftop.
“Jimin—”
He presses closer to you, trapping you against your car, helpless. “If you don’t tell me what you need you won’t get it,” he says, and you shudder.
“Need you to fuck me,” you gasp out. “Need you to make me cum—need you to fill me up—want you so bad—”
“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”
Jimin steps away just as the elevator dings, doors sliding open to reveal a gaggle of people, fans crowding around a few drivers. The smile on Jimin’s face is wicked as you turn around, and you almost hate how nonchalant he looks while you’re so affected. You have no doubt the flimsy material of your underwear and the high hem of your skirt is doing nothing to hide how slick you are, so you’re grateful that the rooftop is only lit in dim light.
One of the drivers peels off from the group and you realise that it’s Johnny. He approaches you despite how Jimin wraps an arm around your waist, hand sliding under your jacket—you let yourself relax, leaning against Jimin’s familiar body, settling against him in a way you don’t even have to think about any more.
“Nice driving,” Johnny says. He hadn’t actually raced himself, but his Dodge is a powerful and vicious beast, so you’re not surprised he didn’t want to risk damaging her in the tight corners of the car park. She thrives on the open road, not indoors. “Want to put those skills to the test in my Viper?”
“She’s busy.” Jimin pulls you even closer. He has his usual mask on now, distant and aloof. You’re the only one who sees his softness, or his lust. (That’s only for you.)
“Wasn’t talking to you, man.” Johnny doesn’t even spare Jimin a glance, ignoring him despite how Jimin had beaten you earlier—he just stares at you. You can’t help but feel insulted on your boyfriend’s behalf. He’s a fantastic driver and he deserves every bit of attention that Johnny is lavishing on you.
“Thank you, but it’s true, I’m busy,” you say. Jimin’s thumb is slowly brushing up and down your side; just a small, tiny motion, but you’re hyperaware of it. You lift your hand to rest on Jimin’s chest, over the raised, glittering Roman numerals of his shirt. “Enjoy your Viper. She’s beautiful.”
Johnny stands there for a second and then shrugs. “Aight,” he says. “I will. Have a nice night, I guess.”
He wanders off and gets absorbed back into the group of people he’d appeared with. Jimin turns his head and kisses your cheek, and then your ear, dipping his head to mouth at your neck, and you grip the hand that’s resting on your waist.
“Jiminie,” you say. “We need to go.”
He laughs against the skin of your throat. He sounds smug, the desperation obvious in your tone. “Always so needy, sweet thing,” he murmurs. “Haven’t heard the saying all good things come to those who wait?”
Jimin’s making you pay for your earlier boldness and you know it. There’s an ache between your legs, one that needs to be satisfied, but he seems happy to wait, unruffled. You’re so riled up right now and he seems unmoved, even if the iciness around him has melted now.
“I’ve been waiting all night.” You squirm a little, tightening your thighs, trying to offer yourself some relief; Jimin can always turn you on so fast and you can feel a physical throb of arousal in your cunt, lips swollen, begging to just be touched.
He lets out a little sigh, as if he’s being put upon right now. You’re torn between wanting to kiss him or shove him away from your car.
“Fine,” you say, making your tone a petulant one as you turn your nose up. “I guess I’ll just go home and grab my vibrator—”
Jimin tugs you against him, his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes.  His voice is quiet but undeniable. “No, you won’t. I’m not done with you, sweet thing. You’re always so impatient.” He loosens his hold so he can pull his head away and then he’s smiling at you; there’s something behind that smirk, something in his eyes. “Come on, baby.”
He gives you no chance to question him. You drive beside him in your Solstice, trying to ignore how your skirt is hitched up and you can feel yourself dripping on the leather seat; the rumble and vibrations of your car provide the barest of reliefs, nowhere near what you really want. 
You know Jimin’s apartment will be deserted tonight, Yoongi staying with Taehyung, leaving you and Jimin alone, but he still teases you even as you step inside. You try to crowd up against Jimin, get him to touch you— you know that he wants to and he usually gives in once you’re this wound up and aching, but tonight he seems content not to. At one point you try to guide his hand under your shirt again and he grabs your wrist, giving you a look that makes your knees go weak, even if you scowl at him. He hasn’t even kissed you properly yet.
“Be patient,” he says. 
There’s a note of warning in his voice. Normally you’d be more willing and pliant, ready to listen, but this entire escapade started because you’re feeling neglected and ignored—this is just the icing on the cake.
“I have been! Come on,” you whine. “Don’t you want your reward for winning tonight?”
Jimin’s mouth is a hard line. “I’m going to claim my prize,” he says. “But it seems like you’re making this about you, aren’t you? Always so greedy, sweet thing. I guess I’ve been too lax with you, haven’t I?”
You pause. He has that look in his eye, one that you’ve started to recognise the more you see it, and you can feel your pussy throbbing when you realise that he’s starting to take complete control of the situation. You’re equals on the track, and equals in this relationship, but recently in the bedroom you’ve been giving up your position at the helm sometimes, letting Jimin control the pace.
Because you trust him.
“Maybe,” you answer, and Jimin smiles. “But you can’t blame me for that.”
“No, that’s true,” Jimin says. “That’s why I’ll only punish you for your earlier shameless behaviour, not your impatience. I’ll give you five.”
He doesn’t need to elaborate on what he means. Five spanks. Barely anything, really. You scoff. “Five? Why even bother at that point?”
Jimin’s eyes darken. “Another five for answering back. That’s ten altogether. You want to keep going, baby?”
Do you? You’re not sure. Jimin’s helped you discover that you enjoy spanking, sure, but do you really want to waste time on more spanks when you could be getting something better?
You’ve clearly been quiet for long enough that Jimin finds it concerning. “What’s your colour, sweet thing?”
A warm flush of affection spreads through your chest, the reminder that no matter what happens, you have your safewords: that even though you feel like Jimin is controlling the direction of the night, you have the power to stop it if you need to. You decide that ten is enough. “Green,” you say. “I’m green, Jimin.” 
You watch as he smiles at you, pleased, before he pulls the rings off his right hand, dropping them to the coffee table and ignoring the clatter of metal against glass. Once his hand is free and unadorned he takes a seat in the middle of the sofa, patting his thighs. “Boots off, and then I want you over here, baby.”
You shrug your jacket off and let it fall to the floor before you pull the tie-string at the top of your boots, letting them sag open before you kick them aside. You try to ignore how slick your folds feel and how wet you are as you make your way over to him, draping yourself across his lap; his thighs feel so thick and firm under your stomach, shifting forwards so that your ass is tilted up towards him, settling over his knees. You glance over your shoulder to look at Jimin but he just tuts.
“Eyes forward.”
You bite your lip but obey, facing forwards again as you stretch your arms in front of you, staring at your hands. You can’t see what Jimin is doing but you focus on the sensation of each of his motions. How he pulls your skirt up like he had earlier, how the air of the room is cool on your skin. 
You choke in a gasp when he takes the material of your underwear and tugs it up, revealing the bare skin of your ass when he pulls them tight; the pressure against your clit feels so good but it’s still not enough, even when you try to roll your hips forwards into the sensation. He clicks his tongue and then pulls them down instead, letting them settle at your knees, nothing better than a flimsy restraint.
“I want you to count them for me,” Jimin murmurs. He’s rubbing his hands over your skin, your lower back and ass and thighs, getting you ready; he swats your skin lightly a few times to get you prepared, each quick slap a glancing touch that quickly fades. “One to ten. Okay?”
“Okay.” Your voice is shakier than you thought it would be, so wound up and desperate for any sort of relief. Even though the light hits that he’s raining down on your skin fade almost instantly you can feel the coil tightening inside you, the anticipation building up, ready to burst.
The first real smack has you jolting in his lap. The pain quickly fades into pleasure and you clench your hands as the sensation rolls through you. “One,” you count as Jimin rubs his palm over your skin, soothing it.
The next smack is on your other buttock, Jimin’s flat palm leaving a stinging sensation against your skin that tingles outwards and into your core. “T-two.”
You continue to count out each smack. Jimin varies the intensity and speed of them, alternating between caressing your skin or squeezing the flesh of your ass between each one; you can never anticipate how he’s going to move, each slap against your skin a sharp pain that instantly melts into pleasure, sensation dulling and spreading into a tingling sting that settles into you.
By the time you’re ready for the last hit you’re almost sobbing with pleasure, trying your best not to squirm in his lap, trying not to think about how much you’re dripping. Jimin dips his fingers lower, glancing over your sodden folds, and you gasp out loud at the teasing, desperate for more.
“One more.” Jimin’s voice is low. “You’re doing so, so well, baby. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” you confirm, and then his hand is coming down against the swell of your ass for the final time. “Ten,” you gasp.
Jimin’s hands are all over you, stroking you, praising you with his words and touch. He turns your head towards him so he can crane forwards and kiss you. It’s an awkward position but you can’t help but lean into the kiss, the first time his lips have touched yours tonight, ample reward after the punishment you’d just taken.
“Did so well,” he praises. “How are you doing, baby?”
His hands are rubbing over your sore flesh. Your skin stings but the ache isn’t bad, although you can’t help but think that you’re not going to want to put any pressure on your ass any time soon. “I’m good,” you say. “So good. Thank you, Jiminie.”
He lets out a tinkling little laugh. “Thanking me for a punishment, sweet thing?”
You feel loose and relaxed, limp in Jimin’s lap, all the endorphins from the spanking running through your veins. “I deserved it,” you sigh.
Your head is turned to one side so you can glance at Jimin, though the angle still prevents you from seeing anything in any sort of detail—so you’re caught completely off guard when he pushes a finger into you, your lower lips parting so easily for him, and you let out a reedy cry when he presses another one in when he realises you can take it.
“You’re fucking dripping,” Jimin breathes, and you writhe as he presses in deeper, his pretty little fingers sinking so easily into your greedy cunt. You can’t spread your legs properly with how your underwear is hooked around your knees and you feel so tight around his fingers, especially when he presses a third one in, the slight burn fading so quickly into pleasure. “Oh, just look at you.”
The slick sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you is lewd. You’re so, so wet, only growing wetter as he continues to move his hand; he doesn’t touch your clit and when you try to rock against his thighs he uses his other hand to hold you still, splaying his fingers over the heated flesh of your ass. 
He knows how hard you find it to cum without any stimulation to your clit and doesn’t touch you where you’re desperate to be touched, focusing on turning you into a quivering, needy mess in his lap. Your skin feels overheated and your nipples are hard in the cups of your bra, almost painful, and you’re so, so hungry for your release.
“Jimin, please,” you sob. “Please, please—”
He pulls all of his fingers out of you all at once. Tears of frustration spring to your eyes and you kick your feet as you clench and unclench your hands, but then Jimin is guiding you off his lap, putting his hands around your waist to move you. His hands are quick and fast as they tug your skirt down your legs, though he’s still careful to ease the waistband over the curve of your hips and ass, avoiding the stinging skin. You feel the lace of your top rip as you both hastily pull it off, but you really don’t give a shit, fumbling for the clasp of your bra as soon as you can; you’re naked and needy in front of a fully-clothed Jimin, who’s looking at you with hooded eyes as he stands.
Normally you take the time to touch him, feel his soft skin under your hands and lips, tease him and work him up with his cock in your mouth, but tonight it seems like he’s too impatient to wait. When you reach out for him he takes hold of your wrists, his grasp gentle but firm, and he guides you into the position he wants— knees on the sofa, hands braced against the backrest, looking over your shoulder so you can drink him in as he gets undressed.
First, that beautiful embellished bomber of his, carelessly cast to one side. Next, the shirt, tugged out of the tight loop of his belt and pulled over his head, revealing his beautiful chest and stomach, the tattoos you’ve grown familiar with still beautiful as ever on his skin. The belt, unbuckled, leather trousers shoved down and kicked aside, and then he pulls his socks off and he’s finally, finally done. He looks so beautiful like this, naked save for the jewellery on his body— the chain around his neck, the bracelets at his wrists, the rings on his left hand, and of course, the simple, silver hoops in his ears.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” you breathe. 
Jimin’s expression is clouded with lust but you can see how his eyes go soft at your reverent tone, and he bends forwards to catch your mouth against his again; it’s deep and slow but messy, sloppy with the desperation you have for each other. “You’re gorgeous too,” he murmurs against your lips, and you smile, leaning into him. “My pretty baby.”
One of his hands settles at the curve of your waist, and the other grips his cock, ready to press into you. You’re almost shivering, so, so ready for him, entire body on edge; you choke in a gasp when you feel his cockhead brush against your folds, the slide so wet and easy. You feel how you part for him once he breaches you, your inner walls opening for his familiar hardness, pulling him in deeper and deeper until he bottoms out.
The skin of your ass stings where he’s pressed against it, but it’s just another sensation on top of the pleasure singing through you, settling in your lower belly and between your legs. Jimin wastes no time and starts to snap his hips forwards, one hand at your waist and the other at your shoulder to give him leverage to drive into you, curving your spine as you struggle to hold yourself up— the slap of his skin against yours and the wet sounds of his cock breaching your cunt is almost deafening, but then he leans forward to hook his arm around you, taking his fingers and rubbing tight, quick circles on your clit, fingers still wet from where they’d been sunk into you before.
The noise you make when you finally cum drowns out the other sounds that have been filling the room. You cum so hard your legs shake and you slump forwards, thighs trembling as you fold your weight into your arms, ripples of pleasure skating through you from your dripping cunt, still stuffed full of Jimin’s hot cock.
Jimin slows his thrusts, though he’s still pumping in and out of you, aftershocks trembling through your body from your orgasm. He puts a hand in your hair and tugs, pulling you against him, the skin of your back pressed against his chest. “Is my baby still feeling needy, hm?”
You nod your head, still grinding back against him, chasing the pleasure of his cock shifting inside you and the ache of your stinging skin dragging against his hipbones. “Yes,” you say, breathless. “Yes, need more.”
Jimin laughs, a triumphant little sound. You’re too far gone to even feel embarrassed at how shameless you’re being right now. “I knew it,” he says. “Greedy little cockslut, aren’t you?”
You clench around him, swallowing down a moan. “Only for you, Jiminie.”
“No one else is ever going to be good enough, are they?” He circles his hips and you shudder against him at the feeling, how his cock drags against your inner walls. “No one else knows how to please my baby like I do, do they?”
“No,” you agree. “No, no one else, only you— oh—”
Jimin stays inside you as he turns you around, hands firm around your waist as he sits down and pulls you with him, seating you in his lap. You lean back against him, rolling your hips and arching your spine when he cups your breasts in his hands, kissing down the length of your neck before sucking marks into your skin. Once it seems like he’s satisfied with how clearly he’s marked you as being taken, as being his, he starts to bounce you in his lap, thick thighs cushioning your fall each time you drive your hips back down.
“Can you cum again for me, baby?” His fingers are digging so firmly into your hips now that you wonder if it’ll bruise, but you can’t help but want it, want more reminders that you’re his. Reminders of his touch. “Can you give me one more?”
“Y-yes,” you hiccup, breath driven out of you with one particularly hard rock of Jimin’s hips. “Wanna come with you, Jimin.”
You can tell when Jimin’s close to his release. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know—you can picture the sweat in his hair, the set of his brows and the curve of his mouth as he moans. You know the cadence of his gasps, how the motions of his hips start to speed and go off rhythm; you know exactly when to let your hand fall between your legs, rubbing at your clit so that you can cum with Jimin, your entire body wound up and ready to tumble off the edge with him. He puts his hand over yours, pressing the pads of your fingers down harder on your swollen bundle of nerves as your fingers grow slick with your wetness, and you’re gone.
You hit your peak with a breathless, wanton cry, throwing your head back against Jimin’s shoulder as your toes curl and you cum again. You’re swept up in the sensation of pleasure washing through your body when you feel how Jimin shudders underneath and inside you, how your cunt is still clenching as his cock twitches, as he empties himself into you. You’ve never cum the same time as someone before. It’s almost like you’re pulling the cum out of him, drawing it deeper inside you with each wave of sensation that ripples through your core, and you slump back against him, your chests heaving as you both ride out your highs; the tremors slowly subside as Jimin strokes his hands over your skin, and you twist your head so you can kiss each other slowly, lazily pressing your lips together as you catch your breaths, pleasure from your orgasms settling into every inch of your bodies.
“My pretty baby,” Jimin says, quiet and sweet against your mouth. You smile and rub your nose against his, pressing a swift kiss to the swell of his cupid’s bow.
“All yours,” you say, leaning into the tight embrace that Jimin wraps you in.
You feel blissful and fucked out, lying on your side on the sofa to save putting pressure on your still sore ass, watching Jimin as he moves around the room. He gathers up your clothes and you see how he pauses when he reaches your boots. It’s like you both remember all at once what lead you to this moment, and you see how Jimin turns his head to you with a question on his lips—he knows you well enough to know that everything you do is thought out and measured and that there would have been a reason that you were dressed so provocatively. You wouldn’t have done it on a whim, just because you felt like it.
“Y/n,” he says, and you look away from him, suddenly embarrassed. Every touch tonight has cemented the fact that Jimin cares about you and gives you time and attention, so now you just feel like some sort of dumb petulant child who was being greedy—you didn’t think you were monopolising Jimin’s time, but you obviously are. “Why—”
“You kept saying you were busy,” you interrupt, though you keep your eyes off him, staring up at the ceiling instead. “I was just—I was just feeling neglected and I wanted you to look at me. I wasn’t trying to get anyone else’s attention, I just wanted you to want to spend time with me, because you’ve been so busy recently and you won’t tell me why,” you finish, your voice quiet. You feel silly even as the final words come out.
“Oh, sweet thing.” Jimin’s voice is warm and gentle. You glance away from the ceiling to see him carefully setting all the clothes and mess to one side, heedless of the tangle of expensive clothing, and he crouches by the sofa to cup your face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you sigh, nuzzling into his lovely hands, into the now-familiar sensation of his fingers against your cheeks. “I was just being greedy.”
“No, you weren’t, you’re right.” His hair is mussed and his eyeshadow is smudged, as is yours, the two of you vulnerable with each other in ways you never are with anyone else. His eyes are soft and his face is open as he dips down to kiss your forehead, brushing the loose hair away from your face. “I have been very busy and I’ve been unfair by not telling you why.”
“You don’t have to,” you insist, but he shakes his head.
“I’ll be right back, baby,” he says. “Hold on.”
You watch him leave the room and pad down the hallway, past Yoongi’s bedroom and into his own, and you sit up when you see him reappear with a small collection of papers, print-outs that you try to catch a glimpse of before he spreads them on the coffee table for you to see.
“I’ve been going on apartment viewings,” he says. “I was trying to work out which place was best. What’s in our budget, where’s between my work and your garage—I’ve been trying to narrow it down.”
You stare at him, dumbfounded. He’s smiling at you in that way of his that you love so much, the one that squeezes his eyes and lets you see his crooked front tooth—the smile that drives home that Jimin is flawlessly flawed, perfect with his imperfections, overwhelming in his beauty.
“Jimin,” you breathe. “You want to move in with me?”
“More than anything,” he says. “I thought it would be nice if you didn’t have to worry about anything because I would have already done all the legwork. I wanted to surprise you.”
Your face crumples. You don’t mean to, but you can feel tears welling in your eyes; Jimin moves instantly, pulling you close to him as you try to swallow down the sudden rush of emotion, overwhelmed. You’re both still naked, your skin pressed against his as he holds you, but there’s no lust behind this touch—it’s all love and affection and you still can’t believe that Park Jimin is yours. You’ve never felt so lucky in all your life.
“You should have told me,” you sniffle. “Apartment viewings suck. I could have helped.”
Jimin laughs, a light giggle that ends up muffled against your scalp when he noses into your hair. “That would have defeated the purpose of the surprise, sweet thing,” he says. He pulls back so he can look at you, and just like when he’d seen you cry before, there’s no judgement on his face—just warm empathy and fondness. “They do suck, though. It’s taken so much longer than I thought. I never meant to make you feel neglected.”
“I was being stupid.” You huff out a breath into his face. “Like—okay, sure, maybe you weren’t spending as much time with me as you normally do, but you weren’t neglecting me. I just got so used to having you whenever I wanted you.”
Jimin smiles. He keeps hold of you, pulled close in his embrace, and you know then that you’re never going to let Park Jimin go. “When we move in, you will,” he says, and you shiver at the promise of future pleasure—not just sex, but closeness, intimacy, a promise to one another that this is going to become more.
But, like, also the sex, too.
God, Jimin is so gorgeous.
You let Jimin thumb your small tears away. You hate crying in front of anyone, hate feeling weak, but Jimin never judges you. He makes you feel safe, like you can be open with him, and you know he’ll never betray your trust. You press a kiss to his Adam’s apple before you peer at the printed sheets on the coffee table, wanting to see the fruits of his labour. “So are these the ones you’ve narrowed it down to?” Your eyes flicker over the pages. “Take me through them.”
You end up curled in his lap, looking through each of his choices together—and hey, if you get distracted by each other halfway through the selection, who can blame you?
---
TAGLIST: @beyoncesdragon​ 
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spidercakes · 5 years
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Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Tag List: @prettieststarker @readysetstarker @lover-starker@starkerprince @starker-flame @i-am-irondaddy @blush-reincarnated@c6h12o6-work @von–gelmini @caseysroses@darkobsidianquill​ @starkerhowlter
Warnings: bondage, light (but explicit) BDSM, smut.
Also, this chapter is hella long lmao its like 6K.
*
He’s looking in the mirror, admiring the shoes. He’d already sent a few pictures to Tony since he’d responded well to it the last time and they look cute with the black skinny jeans he happens to be wearing too. He hadn’t anticipated that, which is dumb because he knows black goes with everything and he’s seen Liz wear skinny jeans and heels but still. He turns a little, shifting the angle of the shoes in the mirror and smiling when someone walks into his room and he lets out a surprised squeak, turning too fast considering he’s not used to the shoes and he slips, falling on his ass.
Liz frowns at him for a moment, noticing the shoes right away. “If you want to wear those you need to learn how to walk in them and as much as I love MJ and Ned they are not qualified to teach you. I don’t think Ned is aware that things that aren’t fandom shirts even exist and MJ dresses like a homeless hobgoblin so I’m all you’ve got,” she says, arms crossed over her chest.
Peter picks himself up, which takes work in heels but he manages mostly. “I think I can manage on my own,” he says.
“Uh huh. Do you know how to walk down stairs in those?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
He frowns, “just like… go down the stairs?”
“Mmhm, see how well that works for you,” she tells him, gesturing out the door to his room. He sighs because now he has to prove her wrong so he walks with pretty good success to the stairs and goes down a few, clinging to the railing as he goes. Liz watches him judgmentally and he gives her a look.
“What? Am I doing it wrong?” he asks. How does someone even go down stairs wrong, heels or no?
“Yeah, you are. Give me a second,” she tells him, disappearing into her room for a moment before she reappears with a pair of heels on and walks down a couple stairs. “Go down them at a forty five degree angle, makes your life a whole lot easier,” she says.
He gives it a try and he frowns when it helps. “That’s so dumb why are they like that?” he asks, giving the shoes an annoyed look.
“No clue, some shoe expert probably figured it out but that’s how to do it the easiest. And you need to learn how to walk in those things, watching you makes me sad. Come here,” she says, walking back up the stairs easy. It takes Peter longer, unused to balancing the way he has to in these shoes. “What’s with the sudden interest anyway?” she asks and Peter shrugs.
“They’re cute.”
“And you decided this… yesterday?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
No, he decided that a long time ago. “Okay, this is going to sound really stupid but like… it didn’t occur to me that I could like… wear heels.”
Liz squints, “yeah, that is really stupid. You don’t even have the big man feet problem, you have baby feet,” she tells him and he wrinkles his nose at her.
“I don’t have baby feet, me feet are normal!”
“You have baby feet, Peter, accept it. So you decided out of nowhere you can wear heels, any other new discoveries? Because if you’ve suddenly decided you like women’s clothing in general I’m banning you from my closet,” she tells him.
He figures he’ll keep the skirt thing to himself, its not like she’d notice anyway. “Why not like… double your wardrobe?” he says. “We’re the same size.”
For a moment Liz frowns, “I didn’t consider that, and since MJ dresses you know… like that I’ve been stuck with one wardrobe this whole time. You have any other galaxy brain takes in there?” she asks. “And I’m borrowing those skinny jeans you’re wearing later.”
He looks down at them, eyebrows drawing together. “Liz, you have like twelve pairs of black skinny jeans why would you need mine?”
“Yours have pockets, strip them off Parker,” Liz tells him.
“Teach me how to walk in these things first and then I’ll consider it,” he tells her. Liz throws a pillow at him and he squeaks, smacking at it to deflect it, sending it flying into a wall while he loses his balance and falls on his ass. Liz walks over, looking down at him from her vantage point, “you’re at my mercy now, Peter,” she tells him.
He sighs, “fine, you can have my pants when we’re done with the heels lesson, I don’t feel like taking them off right now,” he mumbles.
*
Peter is trying and failing to not want to die in Beck’s class when finally, mercifully, his phone goes off. Its a text and he kind of feels bad for answering it but also if he has to concentrate on Beck for one more minute he might die. MJ gives him a look and she can stop that, she doesn’t even need this class. He does, which is probably why she’s looking at him like that, but still. He’ll pass, if only barely and that’s total crap because Beck only marks him down because of a personal vendetta against Peter over something he doesn’t know he did but still. A pass is a pass.
The text is from Tony, which is probably better than the alternatives. If it was Ned he’d definitely have to look at some horrible meme that he never wanted to see, same if it was MJ especially because she’s sitting right beside him, and if it was Liz there’d probably be a house emergency. She’s weird and prefers phone calls because apparently she grew up in the wrong generation.
Get something pretty and red.
He shakes his head, Tony and his damn obsession with red.
Any specific requests?
Might as well gather what it is Tony is looking for before he gets stuck shopping. Tony gives him a mostly non committal response so he huffs out a sigh, figuring he’ll get something similar to Liz’s skirt seems how he knows Tony liked that. And he liked the skirt too, might as well build something of a work wardrobe. MJ raises an eyebrow at him but he shrugs a little, unsure how he’s supposed to like… explain any of this.
*
He’s perched on Tony’s couch trying to figure out what the fuck was up with Ned’s computer when he typed all this stuff when Tony walks in. Peter looks over his shoulder and he can tell right away that Tony isn’t in a good mood. He looks more disheveled than normal and he’s frowning like its his job so Peter reaches out to him. “Come here,” he says, smiling when Tony walks over. “You look like you had a rough day,” he says, shifting in his spot so he can set his computer aside and pull Tony in for a kiss. Its a risk, he has no idea if he’ll react well but he figures Tony can pull away if he’s not interested. He doesn’t though, he leans into it and kisses Peter softly back.
“I’ve had a fucking terrible day,” he murmurs. “That’s a pretty skirt,” he adds, looking down at Peter.
“You said red. The boots don’t quite match but I still think they look okay,” he says. He doesn’t mention the little surprise under the skirt, figures if they get to that they’ll get to it. Its a surprise for a reason.
Tony leans in and kisses him again, fingers curling around his jaw, “those boots are pretty attractive too. You’re good at this.”
“I have friends that have an interest in fashion,” he says like he’s never paid attention to fashion in his life. Which, to be fair, he has but not in a meaningful way. Nice men’s stuff is either ridiculously expensive or too nice to wear out to like… normal places so he tends to wear a lot of jeans and graphic T’s. It works for him, even if he thinks women have prettier fashion. But it does come with the downside of being a lot flimsier and no pockets, he’s heard Liz and MJ complain enough to know not to take advantage of his pocket space.
Tony grins, “and you’ve never considered women’s fashion yourself? Because your ability to pick things out suggests you’ve done more than pay attention.”
“I pay attention to things sometimes,” Peter says, pouting a little.
It earns a small laugh out of Tony anyway. “Okay then, keep your secrets. And follow me, I have real plans for tonight,” he says and Peter all but jumps up.
“Really?” he asks, not meaning to sound as excited as he is.
Tony nods and holds out his hand, “really.” Peter takes it and lets Tony lead him to the bedroom he’d gone to the first time he came here. “Remember what I taught you about the stop light system?” Tony asks and Peter nods.
“Green is go, yellow is slow down, red is stop,” he says, knowing from their small training session that Tony will have him repeat it to be sure.
He nods, “good. Now this wasn’t planned in advance, so don’t feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to. Sure, you’re getting paid for this but everyone has the right to refuse work if you’re going from that angle, and from a basic not being a piece of shit angle I don’t want to do anything to you that you’re uncomfortable with. Okay?” he asks.
Peter sits on the edge of the bed and leans back on his palms. “Is it sad that I feel like I have more right to refuse work here than I did when I worked at McDonalds? Because that job sucked and people threw things at me.”
Tony frowns, maybe thrown off by the subject change or the fact that he used to work at McDonalds. “People… actually thought that their McDonalds order was so high stakes they threw shit at you?”
“Yup. I’ve had muffins, cookies, nuggets, coffee, and on one memorable occasion a bird thrown at me. That job taught me that any asshole who thinks McDonalds workers shouldn’t get fifteen dollars an hour for ‘burger flipping’ or whatever has a- never dealt with the general public and b- is probably the type of person to flip shit over a muffin and have a twenty minute long full blown meltdown. Seriously, three year olds have nothing on middle aged white women looking for a coffee. They’re the worst.” Which makes him sad because he knows middle aged white women who don’t suck, his aunt is the best, but after McDonalds he now secretly wonders which ones are the type to scream at teenagers over things that don’t, in the grand scheme of it, matter.
For his part Tony looks completely baffled. “A bird?” he asks and Peter sighs.
“Okay, Bird Man gets a pass because he was homeless, and he definitely had some mental health problems so when he grabbed that pigeon and just like… yote it at me I figured he was already having a worse day than me. But the next hour trying to catch the bird and get it out of the store wasn’t fun.” It ended up being him that finally caught the scared pigeon and he had to go throw it back outside. His boss at least wasn’t a total dildo that day and let him go home early on account of he was distraught but still. The job was the worst.
Tony shakes his head, “should have got a job at SI. You’d get benefits and an actual wage,” he says and Peter frowns.
“Like actually or do you not know the cost of stuff because rich people don’t know the cost of anything,” he says.
“We don’t,” Tony agrees, “which makes taking financial advice from us absolutely stupid but yes, SI employees get that fifteen an hour you mentioned earlier.”
Peter is sure he’s making some kind of face because Tony laughs, “what the hell? I worked at McDonalds for two years when I could have like… sold computers? Ugh.”
“You probably don’t get birds thrown at you often, at least. There was that one time the poop man attacked Toronto though and an SI store got hit. Shockingly all of the employees didn’t quit immediately because I would have.”
Now he knows how Tony felt when he mentioned the bird. “The… the what attacked Toronto?”
Tony shakes his head, “its normal for them and we live in New York, we don’t get to judge. You had a bird thrown at you, like an entire pigeon. Cities are weird- too many people in one spot and you get a bunch of squirrely ones i the mix.”
“Well, I’d rather a whole pigeon than a piece of one, in Bird Man’s defense,” he says and Tony wrinkles his nose.
“That’s a point.”
Peter lets out a soft huff, “so now that we’ve established that Toronto has poop men running around apparently and pigeons get thrown at underpaid minimum wage employees are you going to tell me what you’ve got planned?” he asks, grinning.
Tony smiles down at him, “you ever been tied up before?” he asks.
He shakes his head, “tried handcuffs once and they kind of sucked.” They look deceptively tame but they kind of hurt if they’re too tight or if you move around too much.
“Yeah, its weird that they’re considered next to vanilla considering restraint cuffs might look more intense but they’re a hell of a lot more comfortable. I don’t like cuffs though, never got the aesthetic of them and I’ve been arrested too many times to think they’re any fun. I was going to use rope- red to match your outfit,” he says.
Peter raises an eyebrow, “they make red rope? What hardware store are you going to?” Do rich people have special hardware stores where they can get rope in cool colors? Is there like… a Whole Foods equivalent to Home Depot?
“I didn’t go to a hardware store, baby. Is that where you think people get this stuff? No, I go to a specialty store that makes kink gear. The rope is silk.”
“Oh. I guess that makes a lot more sense than what I was thinking,” he says. “Silk is probably more comfortable than the scratchy stuff you’d get at a hardware store anyway.”
“It is. Here,” Tony says, turning and leaving the room for a few moments before he comes back with a bundle of dark red rope that he throws to Peter.
Well, yeah, its immediately way more soft than what he’d imagined. “Well now I feel dumb,” he says because this should have been like… common sense.
Tony shakes his head, “its fine, I made the same mistake when I was younger too and I’ve been reliably informed that I’m pretty smart,” he says like that’s not the understatement of the year. It does make him feel better though.
“Okay. So what are we doing with this? Aside from like, the obvious,” he says, wrinkling his nose at how dumb his question sounded.
“Restraining your arms- most of it is complicated knot work. It… eases my mind, I guess, is a good way to put it.”
Peter considers it for a moment and shrugs, “okay. Do you want me to take anything off?” he asks. He’s wearing a long sleeved black sweater that might be designed to look nice rather than keep him warm but its really cute with the skirt. And just a little baggy to make up for the fact that he’s got nothing going on up top.
Tony shakes his head, “no, the rope will look nice over the- did you get your nails done?” he asks, spotting them a little late.
“Um. No. Well, kind of. My roommate decided since I liked heels she now has free reign to do my nails because she likes doing it and our other roommates won’t let her practice on them. The red is kind of a coincidence, she likes red too.” The gold was her experimenting and Peter has to admit they came out really nice. Liz said its easier to do his nails than hers and he figures that makes sense.
He doesn’t really anticipate Tony walking over and picking up one of his hands, thumb moving over his nails but its kind of sweet, the way he does it. “They look nice,” Tony murmurs. “So, you ready?” he asks.
Peter perks up a little, unsure where his excitement is even coming from not, he supposes, that he’s about to question it. With a job that pays this well its best if he enjoys it. “Yeah, where do you want me?” he asks.
Tony smiles down at him, eyes crinkled a little at the corners and its a good look on him. “Middle of the bed, make yourself comfortable.”
*
This isn’t exactly Tony’s first time doing something like this but it is the first time he’s dealt with someone with such… natural submissive leanings. He’s heard plenty of stories but most of them seem either too good to be true, definitively made up, or weirdly misogynistic given that its never men who have a natural gift of submission. He suspects there’s still an element of truth to that but he’ll admit he might have been too quick to judge the stories as blatantly untrue all things considered.
Peter is spread out under him on his stomach, Tony perched on his thighs and Peter has already put his arms behind him, wrists crossed at his butt. He hadn’t needed the instruction at all, just went ahead and positioned himself exactly the way Tony was going to. It would be easy to write it off as a logical position to take but in Tony’s experience even subs who do this often need a little guidance. No one is a mind reader and sometimes they’ll wait for instructions on what to do. Peter, apparently, just happens to be good at doing everything he wants right away.
He places his hand in the middle of Peter’s back, just above where his skirt is sitting and he looks good like this, spread out underneath Tony with his hand on his back. His soft brown curls are brushes away from his face and his eyes are a little hooded, like he’s lost on the idea of being tied up alone. Tony does his best to keep his mouth from watering over the thought of it. He goes to sit back, grab the rope when Peter wiggles a little and Tony raises an eyebrow. “You okay down there?” he asks. Peter’s cheeks turn a little red and Tony sighs, “use your words, baby,” he tells Peter.
It results in another slightly uncomfortable wiggle but Peter speaks before Tony can react. “You can like… use your tie as a gag, right?” he asks, voice low like he’s having a hard time voicing his thoughts. Maybe he is, its not like he’s well versed in this and maybe to him there’s a level of embarrassment. Tony finds it common not that he ever dealt with it. Confusion better fit where he sat when he first got into this stuff. He likes the control, but he has no desire to control anyone in the way he’s experienced it. Made him wonder if his desire for control in this kind of situation was some sort of slippery slope that would lead to him being like Howard. So far it hasn’t happened yet so he figures he’s safe.
“I could, yeah. Is that something you want?” he asks, trying to suss out Peter’s feelings.
His cheeks turn more red, “obviously, or I wouldn’t have asked,” he says, nose wrinkling just a little.
He could have assumed that’s what he wants, but Tony doesn’t tell him that. “Relax baby, of all the things I’ve had people ask of me in situations like this that’s probably one of the tamest options. Give me a minute.” He drags himself off of Peter and then off the bed, feeling the weight of Peter’s eyes on him as he goes.
“What’s the weirdest, then?” he asks.
Never fails to be the next question out of every subs mouth if he says something like that. “You know what sounding is?” he asks, turning to catch a glimpse of Peter shaking his head. “A rod down your pee hole,” he says, laughing as Peter breaks position just to sit up and give him a what the fuck look.
“Why?” he asks, looking horrified.
“Lay back down,” Tony tells him and Peter huffs, returning to his previous position while Tony snatches his tie off the ground. “And I’ve been reliably informed that it feels like a blowjob on the inside, but not my thing.”
Peter doesn’t look like he believes him whatsoever and Tony can’t say he blames him for that. “That’s like… not cool at all,” Peter mumbles while Tony climbs back onto the bed.
“Different strokes for different folks and apparently its painless, not that I’ve ever tried it on account of no thanks.” Not that he should judge, he’s tried some weird things that he’s also discovered are not his thing but still. There’s always a thing or two that will freak a person out and that happens to be one of his, that and any kind of bathroom stuff he does not get the appeal but hey, he’s sure plenty of people don’t get shibari either. Its not like there’s a sexual element for it in the bondage itself either, even if he likes the look of it when its finished. But the act itself has more to do with aesthetics and concentration than sex.
Gags though, that’s more of a sexual thing for him and he’s looking forward to seeing Peter wear one. Especially since he chose to go with his tie. Its an intimate choice, one of Tony’s preferred though it has the downside of leaving the dry cleaning people to clean slobbery ties. He makes a knot in the middle though, turning it into a makeshift cleave gag before setting it aside. Peter gives him a quizzical look and Tony settles a hand in the middle of his back again. “I’m going to tie your hands and see if you can still snap so you can give me some indication that you want out of the ropes,” he says.
A small frown appears on Peter’s features as he considers that. “Huh. I didn’t even think of that,” he says.
“I know baby, but I’ve been doing this long enough to not over look basic stuff like that. Not that I would have expected you to come up with something anyway, that’s more my job.” He’s the one who has to pay attention to Peter’s safety and he’s the one with more experience- its Peter’s job to let him know he’s uncomfortable and that’s mostly it aside from not being outright stupid but Tony told him ahead of time not to be stupid enough to tie himself to a bed with knots that get tighter every time you struggle. Peter had immediately wrote the idea off but Tony has heard of people doing that so its not like it hasn’t been done.
He grabs the rope and eyeballs the length he’ll need to restrain Peter’s wrists the way he wants to before setting to work. Its not difficult, at least not now, to get the knot right and pull it as tight as he wants it. “Snap your fingers,” Tony tells him. Peter does so without difficulty and he nods. “Good. If you’re in any kind of trouble, snap your fingers,” he tells him.
“What if I like… have to pee,” Peter says.
Tony snorts at the practicality of the question. “Then snap your fingers, I’ll take the gag off, and then you can pee. This is not complicated,” he says, grinning down at him.
“I’m just saying, that’s hardly trouble,” Peter tells him, nose wrinkled.
“Don’t be a brat,” Tony says, “and open your mouth.” He does, without complaint and isn’t that just fucking precious. He misses this, someone who’s so pliant and willing to do what he wants when he wants. Within reason, obviously. He sticks the knot in Peter’s mouth and ties it behind his head. “You good?” he asks. He already knows the answer from the look on Peter’s face but the nod is good confirmation. “Good,” he murmurs, settling a hand on Peter’s back again. “I’m going to tie your arms up to about here, okay?” he asks, touching the spot just above Peter’s elbow. Peter gives him a soft mood of affirmation and Tony nods before he starts to work.
Its quick work, but its methodical- requires a level of talent with the rope to make it do what he wants. He can do fancier work than what he’s doing now but his goal is only partly aesthetically driven. He wants to see Peter look nice, but he also likes the busywork of it, the way it can distract his brain a little as he winds down for the day. His job is stressful, mostly because he makes a point to be more involved with his company than a lot of other CEO’s he knows probably because he’s a bit of a control freak. He hasn’t taken a vacation in over two years and he probably needs one all things considered but he has this and this helps. Especially when Peter looks like that, yes half lidded as he makes small noises of contentment while Tony ties the knots.
The red rope stands out against the black of Peter’s sweater, bright against it and conveniently a perfect match to his skirt. He’d wonder, if not for the obvious honesty, if Peter had dabbled in women’s clothing before given his ability to match things and gauge his size right. Its been a long time since someone so immediately good at this, someone so obviously compatible with his wants, has come into his life and he’s fully prepared to milk it for all its worth. He likes the time he gets with his subs, the way the dynamic works between them as they give and take what they need for each other. He likes Peter specifically.
“You look so pretty for me like this,” he murmurs to Peter as he loops the last bit of rope around his upper arms. Peter makes a small hum of affirmation and Tony smiles down at him, “you handled this better than I thought you would,” he murmurs. Peter raises an eyebrow at him looking almost offended. “Relax, I thought you’d do fine. Didn’t anticipate you liking it as much as you did. Maybe next time I’ll tie up your legs too, have you sit pretty for me for awhile,” he murmurs. Peter lets out a soft whine, hips tilting into the bed and Tony raises an eyebrow. “Are you getting off on this?” he asks. He gets an irritated huff out of Peter, like he’s annoyed to have been found out but its useful information actually. “Don’t be shy now, baby, its not like I mind. Makes taking care of you easier if I know what you like,” he points out.
After a quiet, tense moment Peter finally nods and hmm. “I’m going to sit you up on your knees, okay?” Peter nods and Tony moves off the back of his legs so Peter can shift, tucking his legs underneath himself with some minor difficulty. Tony places a hand on his shoulder and grips the knots tying Peter’s arms together and pulls him up, earning a soft gasp out of Peter when he pulls on the rope. His hands clench a little and so does his jaw as Tony shifts him into a more comfortable position. He reaches up and unties his tie, pulling it from Peter’s mouth and earning a dirty look for it.
“Put that back!” he says, almost offended about it.
Tony grins as he sets it aside, “I will in a minute, gorgeous, but I’d like to explore this apparently newfound love of bondage first,” he murmurs as he settles a hand on Peter’s thigh. Peter leans back into him, fully relaxed and that’s curious but not in a bad way. “You sure this is the first time you’ve done this?” he asks.
“Pretty sure I’d have known if I got into this before. Probably would have, if I knew how much I liked it,” he murmurs.
He nods, “and there’s another thing. What do you like about this, hmm?”
Peter gives him another dirty look but its a fair question. When he raises an eyebrow Peter gets the point that he’s supposed to respond. He gives Peter a moment while he shifts a little uncomfortably, perhaps uncomfortable with someone telling him to verbalize his desire. He’s been there, he gets it, but he needs to know what Peter likes so he can better tailor their scenes to both of their tastes. “I like the restriction,” he says eventually. “And I like the lack of control.”
That’s interesting, liking the lack of control given that Peter seemed to have been a little put off by that when they went over the stuff Tony liked. But sometimes people feel differently when they try something than when they read about it. “Flesh that out for me, the lack of control you like. What is it exactly that you like about it?”
“Kind of what’s on the tin,” Peter tells him and Tony pulls the ropes attached to his arms back a little, jostling him. Peter lets out a sharp gasp, biting his lip as his breathing picks up. Well, there’s a reaction.
“Don’t give me attitude, Peter,” he murmurs.
“Sorry,” Peter mumbles back and Tony raises an eyebrow. It takes a second for Peter to pick up what he’s trying to convey but he gets it after a moment and lets out a huff, “sorry, Mr. Stark.”
He decides to let the bit of attitude in that go because he’s always loved that, being called Mr. Stark in bed. No idea why, it should probably remind him of work the way ‘sir’ does, which is why he doesn’t use the popular honorific in scenes, but for whatever reason he can make the separation between work and something else with that particular title. “Good,” Tony murmurs, giving the underside of Peter’s jaw a kiss. “Now lets try that again. What is it about the lack of control that you like?”
Peter sits there for a moment, frowning. “I… don’t get what you’re asking, where’s the nuance in that that you see?” he’s asks.
Tony gives him another soft kiss, “thank you for asking. The headphones you wore when we first met, they’re a loss of control too but you didn’t like not being able to hear. What about this is different to you?”
That at least seems to help Peter out in regards to what he’s looking for. “I didn’t mind not being able to hear, it was just that I was stuck in total silence. It felt cold, isolated. This is like… the opposite of that. I like feeling restricted, like feeling the way you tie the knots. I like…” Peter trails off for a moment and Tony gives him time. “I like that I have no control, that you could do whatever you want to me.”
“Do you want that? Me to do whatever I want to you?” he asks. That had been something he seemed disinterested in too when they’d talked things over but Peter nods.
“Yes,” he breathes out softly, head tipped back a little as his eyes shut like imagining it is enough to get him going.
He presses a soft kiss to Peter’s jaw, “something to keep in mind for next time,” he murmurs.
“You can do it now, if you want,” Peter says, looking over his shoulder and fuck he looks gorgeous like that, half wrecked and Tony hasn’t even done much yet.
“Not right now baby, I want to ease you into this.” Peter pouts at him about it and Tony is sure he has no fucking clue what sub frenzy is so he’ll send him information on it later. For the moment he thinks he can swing Peter’s desire in his favor anyway. “You want me to put that gag back on?” he asks and Peter nods almost frantically.
“Yes,” he breathes out, squirming a little with desire and Tony smiles as he grabs the tie. He slips the knot back into Peter’s mouth and reties it behind his head before settling his hands on Peter’s thighs. He presses back into Tony, trying his best to look at him over his shoulder and only partially succeeding given that Tony is almost right behind him.
“So you like being tied up, hmm?” he murmurs as he moves his hands slowly up Peter’s thighs. Peter lets out a small whine and nods. “How about next time I tie your hands to your ankles wearing those pretty little boots of yours?” Peter’s head tips back and moans and Tony has to admit his reaction is probably almost as attractive as the real thing even if he won’t be sure of that until he sees it. “I’ll tie your legs too, just like this,” he says, fingers trailing softly up his folded legs, “make you sit there and beg for it until I think you’ve earned it.”
He doesn’t totally expect Peter to react but he’s more than happy when Peter’s eyes roll back and he lets out another moan though the tie. Begging seemed to be more his thing than Peter’s but he’s happy to trade off tying him up if it’ll get him what he wants. Shit, there’s a lot of things he’d trade off to see Peter like this. “Then,” he murmurs in Peter’s ear, “I’ll bend you over.” He tips Peter forward, hand on his neck as he presses him into the mattress and fuck the loud, extended moan Peter lets out is hot. “And touch you,” he says as he trails his fingers up the back of Peter’s thighs, toying with the edge of his skirt. Peter’s breathing has picked up and he shifts a little under Tony’s hand, making small noises of pleasure as his hand slips under his skirt.
He doesn’t anticipate the panties Peter is wearing under it and he moans, pressing his forehead to Peter’s back as he leans into his further. “God, you are so fucking perfect,” he tells Peter, “always managing to do some other little thing for me, hmm?” Peter lets out a small laugh, trying his best to wiggle his ass a little. “How do you feel about me teasing you like this, hmm? Seeing how far I can take you,” he murmurs as he cups Peter through the satin. He makes a high keening noise as he shifts his hips into Tony’s hand. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that. Could probably tease you for hours, bring you to the edge and back again until you’re so damn hungry for it you can’t even beg anymore.” Peter takes in a sharp inhale of breath and shifts his hips into Tony’s hand again. He massages Peter gently, feeling him through the soft material and smiling when Peter’s eyes flutter shut again.
“Next time I’ll use a proper gag, see what your pretty lips look like stretched over a ball gag for me. Wanna hear the way you sound when I fuck into you soft and slow, forced to move at my pace,” he murmurs. Peter whines, hips tilting into his hand as he tries desperately to draw in enough breath through his nose. “Bet you I could get you to cum like this, barely even touching you.” Peter nods frantically, whining again as he shivers. Tony smiles, “I’ll let you this one time, but after this you cum whenever the hell I tell you to, got that?” he asks and Peter lets out a loud moan, face curling into the mattress as he spills over those pretty panties of his, eyes rolling back in his head. “Good,” Tony murmurs, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Glad to see we understand each other.”
*
Peter is on cloud fucking nine and he didn’t even expect to like any of that except now he wants to do like all of it yesterday. Tony sent him more reading material but he’s neglected it in favor os savoring the feeling of Tony’s hand on the back of his neck pressing him into the mattress and fuck it’s going to be a long time before he can think of anything else jerking off. He’s excited for the next time Tony calls him over and he’s going to complain if Tony doesn’t do what he promised because he has needs, okay, and its cruel to neglect them. That’s like… workplace negligence or some shit, he’ll look it up later.
He’s so absorbed in his thoughts that the poke to his side results in him letting out a sharp yelp and tossing the plate he forgot was in his hand across the room. Liz, MJ, and Ned snort and start laughing. “Oh my god, its like those cat versus cucumber videos and Peter’s the cat!” Ned says, clutching his stomach as he laughs. He looks down and sure shit Liz is holding a fucking cucumber.
“Can you guys like… not?” he asks, hand on his hip.
“You’re cleaning that up,” MJ tells him, gesturing to his dinner, which is now on the floor. He sighs because that’s only fair but still, its rude to scare a guy when he’s daydreaming  about hot men holding him down and fucking him silly. He feels he should be left in peace with his thoughts.
“This is like… treason and I’m calling the president,” Peter tells them.
Liz rolls her eyes, “jokes on you, the president hates gays so we’re all going to jail.”
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butterflytrees · 5 years
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do you have any tips on magicalkid fashion ?? like basic things to have, color palettes, different styles of clothes, etc. im really into fashion n id love to learn more about this style !!
Thanks so much!! ((I had a whole long answer written out but it got deleted TToTT)) 
<3 the style itself is pretty diverse, it’s just whatever is cute to you and makes you feel magical, so these are more pointers I use lol
<3 I would say some good basics to have are cute shirts, comfy jeans, flowy skirts (circle skirts and skater skirts are good bc you can put mini tutus under them and make them go poof which I love), big ol comfy sweaters and hoodies and cardigans, knee socks/cute print ankle socks, platform shoes (like fila sneakers or chunky doc martins), heels/wedges, and maybe a cute purse or backpack
<3 magicalkids come in all shapes and sizes and identities, so if you don’t like any of those things or feel uncomfy/can’t wear them, you literally don’t have to at all :*
<3 as for color palettes, pastels are a good go to. if you want to do non pastels, i would try to find some colors with a slightly lower saturation/softer colors so they blend a little better. bright colors are also good. ((there’s really no bad option as long as you feel comfy and magical lol)) there’s a lot of different vibes you can go for, and they all work. like how some people say to use softer less bright colors and never outline in black (like bee and puppycat) but adventure time uses bright colors and black outlines, and it’s still hella cute.
<3 I would pick a color/tint or two (like baby blue and peach) and make an outfit and do makeup if you wanna based on that. using the baby blue and peach combo, you could wear light wash jeans, a peach t shirt, cream cardigan and white/off white sneakers, (with peachy blush/lipstick and a blue hair clip if you wanna do hair accessories and makeup) that way you’re only using like 3-5 colors so it all looks coordinated
<3 for different styles, I would look at cartoons and cute art you like. If you look up “cute soft art” on pinterest there are tons of cute drawings and illustrations that have that kind of soft magical/cartoony vibe, while still having different styles. some of them are more street fashiony, some are more classic magical girl, some are more edgy, some are more softboy, but they all manage to have the same vibe. you can even make a pinterest board with sub categories for the different styles if you want to (can u tell I’m on pinterest all the time lmao)
<3 a couple other random tips: 
  if you want cute anything, try looking in kids sections at stores, they have tons of cute little handbags, headphones, notebooks, even bath puffs that add to the whole cutie vibe. 
  wings and animal faces on stuff like socks, headphones, and bags are all also gr8. 
  If you use a warm color like peach or raspberry in the crease of your eye where you’d normally put brown, and use the same/a similar color as your blush, it makes you look all blushy and cute (make sure it’s a good color for your skintone ofc).
  if you put a little bit of matte liquid lipstick in the middle of your lips and spread it around/blend it in with your finger, it makes the color look a little more soft and it stays on longer (in my experience). 
<3 this post is a whole mess, I hope it helped lol ♡ my shoplook and pinterest are both glitterybee if you wanna check em out xo
ILYSM xo ~honeybee 
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♥︎Tag Game♥︎
I don’t recall being tagged in any of these before but AAAAAAA I’m so excited!!!!!! Thank you very much to @rose-wine-selfships for tagging me!
Rules; Once you’ve answered everything, tag 10 bloggers you want to know more about! (I don’t think I know enough people ‘cause shy but eeeeeee I’ll do my best!!!)
Name/Alias: Silently! I also go by Red, or Elizabeth! Although I do love nicknames so being called Lizzy or Si is cool by me! ^0^ My self insert goes by Bronwen though. I mainly get called Elizabeth, but that’s probably because ‘Silently’ isn’t really a name lol.
Hair Colour: Brown! Brunette for life lmao. It’s on the darker end in terms of shade, but it’s got red highlights in it that I’ve been told are very visible in the sunlight, and make my hair look super red. I basically look like my self insert, to be honest… I’m very transparent on that front.
Zodiac Sign: Pisces, I am Da Fishes©. Kind of ironic though, since I think the ocean is terrifying, lol.
Height: 5’3, I think I’ve said it somewhere here before but I am smol lol. There’s a reason I wear heels, or at the very least low-heeled shoes, all the time.
Hobbies: Other than self-inserting and daydreaming? I love playing video games, watching anime, reading (both actual books and manga), drawing, watching youtube videos (I really love reddit readings and let’s plays!), sewing, cosplay, roleplaying, but most of all… writing! Writing is my passion and I always make sure to set some time aside in my day for it. It’s super important to me and always has been!
Favourite Colour(s): Red and black primarily. But I’m a fan of most pastels, mainly soft blues, lavenders, and pinks too. I also have a big soft spot for sunset colours though.
Favourite Books: Inkheart, that book has stuck with me ever since I read it way back when I was eleven… I also have a book that’s a collection of Shakespeare’s plays and poems, but I don’t know if that counts lmao. I haven’t finished this one yet, but honestly, I love Pet Semetary (Stephen King) so much that I just have to count it.
Last Song I Listened To: Does that count what I’m listening to right now? Lol. If so then it’s Touch by July Talk. If not, then Old Fashioned by Panic! at the Disco.
Last Movie Watched: IT Chapter Two! My family doesn’t often watch movies together (we’re all usually quite busy) but i remember that it was awesome! My dad’s a massive Stephen King nerd so we both adored it (^∇^)
Things I Love: Oooooo gosh I need to make sure this doesn’t ramble on too much… I really love my f/os of course, that’s a given! But I also love to write with all my heart, it’s super special to me. I love biology- it’s a super fascinating subject!- and just science in general, and cats!!!!! Gosh I love cats so much, they are the cutest!!!! I love dresses, the more feminine the better, I love cosplaying and I love music, especially classical and rock music. I love my family more than air, my friends are the best, I love1950s type clothes and Victorian clothes, baking is awesome, and so is drawing, sewing and video games. I honestly just love creating things in general. Also desserts… I love sweet things to a dangerous degree. I’m very picky about them though, lol. Oh and Christmas!!!! I have so much love for Christmas. I’m not religious at all (none of my family is) but we have such fun traditions that it‘s my favourite time of year and I love it so so much!
What Brings Me Peace: Well, my loved ones being happy of course. Nothing makes me feel more at ease than the people I care about being at ease. Music, drawing and writing helps too. But weirdly enough, I feel very at peace listening to those comfort audios people make. I forget what it’s called, ASMR or something. The bad day/comfort audios (99% of the time of my f/os) really helps put me at ease and feel a bit closer to those characters I love so much.
Meaning Behind My URL: It’s kind of boring, lol. It’s based off my main account’s URL, and ‘Silently Fangirling’ is basically my online alias. So I just kinda took that and slapped ‘self shipper’ on the end to indicate it’s my self ship blog. As for what the ‘silently fangirling’ part means, that came from me being an introvert. I’m very quiet, and actually been asked if I was a mute or spoke English because of how little I talk in public spaces (yes, this has actually happened. A usually people are condescending jerks about it too). But I’m also a big fangirl, and that intersects with how quiet I can be, often leading me to basically ‘fangirl silently’. The whole big smiles, burying your face in a pillow, blushy style of fangirling, completely soundless. So that just became my online alias, since I’m a big fandom dork and that tends to be my online focus.
Bonus:
-I am an absolutely massive sap and romantic (shocking, I know /sarcasm). But, I am also a hopelessly oblivious fool. Thusly you get me, the shy, blushy mess. It’s kinda why all my daydreams on here are like “hey… what if… I was loved unconditionally… and get this! Also married… and then later a mom…” because it’s literally my ultimate dream for life.
-On that note, I was once in a love triangle (yes, a real life love triangle) and had absolutely no idea until one of the dudes moved away and the other one started ignoring me because he sent a confession text message and I never recieved it. Ya’ll probably thought that was made up for the Atsushi fics but nope, that happened. It’s recent too, only got fully resolved this past summer.
-My family is a seemingly endless barrage of inside jokes. Seriously, we have an absurd amount. Some of my text messages to my dad are rediculous and I still laugh looking at them now. My personal favourites are the ‘Bagel-stealing whore’ conversation and ‘Schrödinger’s Baker’. One of my favourite lines are also “I must be consistent, lest I be a cowardly bitch” and I love the “fight me in the Wendy’s parking lot” family meme. Honestly I’d love to talk about any of them because my house is full of jokes like that lmao.
-There’s also a running joke that I have a twin sister somehow born eight days before me. This was due to an insurance mistake where the company basically created a third child, the ‘eight days older twin’, from my middle name. It’s long since been fixed but we have no idea how they messed that up.
Last of all, anyone who wants to do this, please go right on ahead! And I I tag you, first of all sorry if you were already tagged (I can’t see who was tagged on he other post right now, tumblr crashes when I try to check rip me-), secondly no pressure to do this! I just think you all are cool ^0^
@glowing-selfships @freezeflame-official @olliesselfshipblog @nougatships @bittersweet-n-smilin @zero-arcana @chuunyakahara @selfship-dream @scribbaw @haileyotakubeebe
Sorry if I’m bugging, I love all your blogs ♥︎ thanks again to @rose-wine-selfships for the tag!!! ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎
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purplesurveys · 5 years
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418
Girly Do you like the color pink? It’s my favorite color. My phone case, wallet, purse, expander, water jug, two notebooks, backpack, pencilcase, clipboard, and paper clips are all pink. What have you spent more money on: a purse or a pair of shoes? Definitely shoes. I have one purse but I didn’t even spend on it, as it was a gift from my tita who was coming over to the Philippines. Do you ever wear heels? I have pairs of heels but people in the PH are so conservative and judgy that you can’t really dress up without them looking at you. As much as I want to wear my heels to places, I can only do so when I go to parties or other special occasions. What are the most stylish but uncomfortable shoes you own? I dunno, I find all of them pretty comfortable. Do you have any shoes you mostly only wear for photo shoots? No...I never have any photoshoots.
What's your all-time favorite lipstick (brand and color)? I don’t do makeup. Do you buy drugstore make-up or high-end make-up? What dog breed do you think you look the most like? Hahahahahahaha what omg
Do you like light blue jeans or dark blue jeans better? Light blue. I think they’re more trendy at the moment. What are your favorite type of pants to wear? I like my high-waisted ripped jeans! They’re super casual and can match any top. I wear it if I just want a chill day. What's the last good love story you read? I haven’t read those in a hot minute. Who is/was the most romantic of your friends? Jo I think, but I’m pretty sure it would be JM if he finally finds someone. Have you ever had a magical kiss? Always. Do you like kissing or hugs better? Hugs!!! Retro Do you own any records? No. I don’t have a turntable to play them on. Do you own a pair of bell-bottoms? Also no. I was never a fan. Have you ever tie-dyed anything? We had to tie-dye a shirt for a project in like sixth grade, but I’ve never done it just because I felt like it. What's one oldies song you like? We Didn’t Start the Fire. Do you think Disco is a cute name for a boy? Not at all. Poor kid. Do you own a lava lamp or disco ball? I own neither, but I wanted my own lava lamp really bad when I was like 14. Did you own a disco light when you were younger? I don’t think I did. Have you ever put a dime in a jukebox? Haven’t. The few times I ate at Johnny Rockets they had a jukebox, but I didn’t go near it because I was shy. When was the last time you went to the roller rink? We don’t have any here. Do you wear hoop earrings ever? I have a pair of clip-on hoop earrings I wear at least once a week. Do you own a kaleidoscope? No. I probably did when I was younger. Have you ever done hard drugs? No. Tumblr What are three of your favorite Starbucks drinks? Java chip frappe, caramel macchiato (iced or warm is fine), and peppermint mocha are my go-tos. Do you have photos on the wall in your room? Yeah but they’re nothing like the Tumblr aesthetic you’re probably asking for. I have frames of Audrey Hepburn on one wall and a poster of a Korean actor that I love, but that’s about it.   If you own/owned a Polaroid camera, which color would/do you have? I’ve never had one but my sister just bought her own Instax the other week that I plan to borrow. It’s brown if I remember correctly. Have you ever done a craft with a record? if so, what? No. I don’t think I’d want to put my hands on a record like that either. What's one of the best Tumblr-inspired craft projects you've seen? Meh. I haven’t seen the crafty side of Tumblr since 2010. Do you have a Tumblr account? I wonder. Which do you like better: Tumblr or Pinterest? Tumblr for surveys and memes, Pinterest for ideas. Do you have a mandala tapestry hanging in your home? No...that screams 2014 to me. Do you own any succulents? I never got into plants. Fake succulents or real succulents? Do you doodle on your notebook paper? When I get bored in class, yes. Do you own Sharpies? Mmmm no, I don’t really need them for anything. What's your favorite Sharpie color? What color are your Converse shoes? White. I used to have a pair of red high-top Chucks as tribute to AJ, but I think my mom threw them out already because I stopped wearing them. Have you ever made an inspiration board for your room? No. Who is the best-looking male celebrity? Gregory Peck. Boho Where would you like to travel to next? Thailand or Vietnam, hopefully! List three more vacations you would like to go on. I want to go back to Singapore, then go to those two I mentioned above. Where are three places you go to relax? My room, the beach, a cafe. Are you a musician, artist, or writer? None of these, but writer speaks to me the most. Do you believe in truth, freedom, and love? ...Sure. What is your favorite store at the mall? I don’t have one I normally go to. Would you hitchhike if people were generally trustworthy? If I had the time, yep. What's the most daring thing you've ever done? Every time I overtake or be an ass on the road (because everyone else is) always feels daring lmao. Would you ever belly dance at a faire? No. If you became famous, would you change your name to something exotic? Idk, that’s kinda racist/appropriating. What are five exotic names that you like? What exactly are exotic names???? Do you own a dreamcatcher? Yeah, I have a large one above my bed. Do you feel closer to God in nature? No. Fashion What are five things that were in style when you were in high school? Roshes, ripped jeans, crop tops, statement shirts lmao, and hoodies. What does your favorite scarf that you've made look like? I don’t need scarves and more so have I not made my own. Do you wear scarves? No. It’s too hot for scarves. List the different colors of jeggings and/or skinny jeans that you have. White, black, dark blue, light blue, khaki. What color is your favorite pair of shorts? Black. What color is your favorite sweater? The XXL one Gabie gave me to use whenever I miss her is gray. List five people whom you think have great style. Audrey Hepburn, one of the profs in my college that has an impeccable wardrobe, Kate, Sophia, and tbh my aunts.
List five of some of the worst trends you've seen. I don’t feel like it. List five items on your current wardrobe wish list. More heels, high-waisted shorts, a new jumpsuit, a party dress for the year-end college party in May, and tube tops. Where do you shop the most for clothes? H&M. Do you own anything leopard print? No. Never. Do you wear earmuffs? I don’t need them. What color are your favorite pair of boots? I don’t really wear boots. Music What song makes you cry? Recently, it’s Louis Tomlinson’s singles- at least the ones dedicated to his mom. What could be the theme song to your life? That’s a pretty bold claim...but uhhh probably Misguided Ghosts by Paramore. What is a good break-up song? Walking in the Wind, One Direction. What song makes you want to dance? Any high-energy Beyonce song tbh. What is one of your all-time favorite songs? From Eden, Hozier. What is your current favorite song? Three straight surveys that this was asked. Talk, by Khalid. Which show has a great theme song? I don’t watch a lot of shows, so I wouldn’t know. Which song is so catchy it's easy to get stuck in your head? Depends on my mood and what my head prefers to play at the moment. Which song is used in a lot of youtube videos? Royalty-free ones? Idk. Which song is sad? The entire soundtrack of New Moon lmao. Who makes great song covers on YouTube? I don’t like covers. Who is one of the best songwriters? HOZIER Who has a beautiful voice? Also Hozier. Who made it big fast? Idk, it’s pretty easy to make it big fast nowadays thanks to social media. Arts and Crafts List five DIY youtubers you love to watch. I hate DIY YouTube. Who makes the best craft videos? Have you ever painted rocks and hid them in your town? No. Even if I had the time to, the idea doesn’t sound exciting. What craft project is harder than it looks? All of them, I would guess. Have you ever got hot glue stuck to your hands? Nooooo no no, that’s one of my biggest fears. Are you messy when it comes to painting? I’m messy in and out of painting. What color is your cutting board? Would you rather build something or decorate something? I’d rather buy something that’s already built and decorated. Just really not an artsy person so this category is not for me haha. Have you ever painted something on canvas? Never. I couldn’t, even if I tried. List a few of your favorite painters. Monet. Do you love the brand Natural Life? I don’t think I recognize the name. Do you love the brand Lisa Frank? Yessssss my girl Lisa used to be the bomb dot com. Oil pastels or chalk pastels? Which do you prefer, and why? Oil...they look nicer for me? And I’ve never heard of chalk pastels until now. Glitter gel pens or regular gel pens? Glitter. Colored pencil or regular pencil? Colored pencils, because I love coloring books. Charcoal or colored chalk? Chalk. Charcoal is messy. Painting or drawing? I hate both. Painting that shows brushstrokes or painting that looks like a photograph? I’d rather see the brushstrokes. Knitting or crocheting? I hate them both too. Sewing on a machine or doing embroidery by hand? Color or black-and-white? Color. Digital photography or film photography? Classic film.
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sinto-hell · 7 years
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boys n fashion
i have uuuuuh very specific ways to imagine how the boys look because i’m never satisfied with canon and i Cannot Fucking Draw™ and i scream a lot about fashion so (mostly because what the fuck is fashion sense in otome i’m looking at u dmmd what the FUCK were those yellow socks and that jacket AN ALSO NOIZ’S ENTIRE FUCKING OUTFIT IM SO ANGRY) anyway this got a bit out of hand lmao i love clothes
nathaniel
LOTS OF SWEATERS
wears a shirt under his sweater with the collar poping out
“preppy” but not frat boy preppy. like comfy casual pretty. soft n warm like marshmallow. he looks soft but he could easily deck u into next week
lots warm cardigans 
lots of light wash jeans. doesn’t really wear black or dark colored jeans. also always cuff his jeans
white adidas are the shoes he usually wears to school
he fucking despises flannels they’re the ugliest thing in his opinion
owns a lot of scarves; never wear any of them
he knows he looks good in stripes so he has a lot of stripped shirt
hoodies are for lazy days
one (1) pair of black ripped knees jeans. usually pair them with a creme sweater
also tries to make his hair behave but he just. can’t. so he tries to make it fashionably disheveled.
owns one of those jacket thats like denim but the sleeves and the inside are like a regular sweater and theres a hood god i want one of those
probably has glasses he wears to read
(i remember i saw an artist that basically drew him dressed like this but i cant remember their name so there’s that)
castiel
boi is a punk 
his wardrobe is 90% band shirt, they’re literally almost all he wears
owns 4 my chemical romance shirt
he has two denim jacket: one black with various pins and small patch on it and one light wash with a big ass misfits patch on the back
also probably found his leather jacket in a thrift store
unironically buys those bad translation shirt that says shit like “try my delicious salt beef” or “way the bridge i burn high the way” credit to @mclfutarinotamashi for that one 
90% of his band shirts are really worn out because he wears them so much
owns a pair of og black converse and red doc martens
usually always has his roots showing and has taken a liking in tying his hair in a half bun. sorta. but he mostly live in his natural bedhead
lys once braided his hair and he didn’t like it on him but he thought it was really relaxing
has a fuckton of spiked bracelet and rubber band bracelets, but only wears one or two at a time nowadays. he used to wear a lot more. like. a lot.
black jeans all the way
also ripped jeans
also own two or three big sweater, and one of them his hands just. disappear when he wear it.
lysander
don’t get me wrong i love the victorian fashion but;; it aint realistic
peg leg trousers. google it. he’d wear the heck out of that.
owns a lot of fancy black pants 
he has those weird pants i’ve been looking for, they’re high waisted and really flowy and they’re called culottes. his are black with white stripes and he owns a black only version
he totally owns a green velvet skirt fight me on this
has a lot of scarves and wears them all
has a simple but very nice pair of brown boots for casual days and fucking 5 inches new rocks platform shoes with buckles all over for when he’s extra
a true Goth™
lots of turtlenecks and long sleeve black shirts. did i mention turtlenecks
he totally owns this sweater in green and black
he loves high waisted pants
plays a bit on androgyny, as he knows he’s pretty tall, but also very delicate so skirt  are the fucking shit on him
owns a trench-like coat. with a hood. also long cardigans
sometimes when he’s extra he’ll play a bit into the steam punk territory
experiment a bit with makeup, but only on his eyes, he still shy away from lipstick
he braid his hair to sleep so it has nice waves the next day. cares a lot about his hair actually 
also basically how @veroww dresses him what a babe
armin
oh boi what a mess
lots and lots of hoodies and generally clothes with hoods so he can hide in them and sleep
literally owns this and that (i have that one and it makes me look like a jedi, so another reason why he’d wear it)
nerd shirts. you know the type.
like he has 3 pokemon shirts and 4 marvel. alexy will not let him go out of the house wearing those. the only one hes allowed to be seen with in public is his star wars one
and fucking memes shirt
like he probably has a white shirt with a shiba inu on it
got that shirt that says “why be racist, sexist, homophobic and transphobic when you could just be quiet” with alexy so they match
one of these guys that only wears black skinny jeans or sweatpants
 basically nerdy emo
has like. 2 pair of shoes. really dirty vans that he wear everywhere and a nice pair of boots for like. ass kicking purpose. kidding alex probably made him buy them
“vans or converse?” “vans what the fuck am i an animal”
probably owns a trasher hoodie (ok now thats me projecting bc i headcanon the only sport he can kind of do is skating so) (beside SK8ER BOI ARMIN AM I RIGHT)
also yes, a lot of beanies
anything comfortable, really; doesn’t really own a lot of fancy or statement pieces he wears regularly. 
kentin
alex is right ok the military pants looks great and he probably has a great ass in it but jesus boy please change up ur game 
i actually haven’t thought a lot about his fashion sense probs because i dont write him as often as the twins or cas or do i thirst over lys
but @ne-neptune has drawn him with glasses and a big jacket today and im lov
probably owns a carhatt jacket thats a bit too big on him
rolls up his sleeves. always. wether his shirts are long sleeves or short sleeves. he. rolls them up. sip sip THEM ARMS THO
wears a concerning amount of beige and green. 
LIKES KNITTED SWEATERS OK. HE IS SOFT™
has a camo jacket
wears a lot of baggy pants but is also warmin up to more slim jeans, (not skinny bc its too tight and he doesn’t understand how armin and castiel do it) bc he knows his ass looks gr8
finally bought himself a new pair of fancy glasses he think he look ok with. hint: he’s both cute & fucking hot with them and everyone is thirsty.
combat boots all the way. he does own a pair of old converse that are seriously starting to be worn out, but he still wears them sometimes
alexy because i fucking can
now that’s my B O I
Thriftshop Fashionista™
seriously this boy love thrifstores. he once fucking found gucci shit in there. he’s lucky.
vintage/90s clothes aesthestic. 
lightwash jeans with a big belt, weird dad shirt tucked into his jeans
HE TUCKS HIS SHIRT IN HIS JEANS
AND ALSO CUFF THEM WHAT A FASHION ICON
probably also own some peg leg trousers like lysander
his favourite pair of jeans is one he found in a really sketchy store, theres hole at the knees and the bottom of the legs are ripped and there are flower patches going down the entire left side (fun fact: one of my friend has these exact pant he found in a thriftsore and every time he wears them i’m just like. vogue is shook. what a fucking look. fashion icon.)
also probably owns a sweater with roses embroidery
has like 4 denim jacket, each very different; one with patches all over it, one with a giant gay flag on the back, one black with rips in it, and one plain light wash
has one of those weird flashy colored 90s jacket that’s like baby blue and bright orange. it was his mom’s. he stole it from his mom. she let him keep and re question her fashion choices every time he wears it.
weird 90s and dad shirt are his shit. also really big sweaters. weird colors. this boy own a purple knitted sweater with a yellow wolf patch on the back. rosalya hates it. he probably bought it out of spite.
also owns vans. and a pair of combat boots. and a pair of converse. and one pair of black high heels. and orange sneakers. and brown fancy leather boots. and-
he probably steals armin’s trasher hoodie for the aesthetic
also steals his beanies bc what he has like 10
loves embroidered clothes or things with patches or weird flower designs on them
also big ass red sunglasses worn ironically.
vogue is fucking shook by this boy
and that’s all folks
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likeorbits · 6 years
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thanks for tagging me @azrielrose ♥ been having a real bad brain day its nice to know you’re thinkin about me
Name: ashton
Star Sign: gemini
Height: 5′2″... ish. i think there’s some change in there but i’m not quite 5′3″  
Sexuality: pan because it’s the closest i can get to “honestly who the fuck knows”
Lock Screen: this beautiful art of my love credence ♥ (edit: added the link i fucking forgot lmfao)
Ever had a crush on a teacher: yep two of them. my high school US history teacher was super young, like 26 maybe when he was teaching my class, and he was goofy and also the baseball coach and he believed so much in conspiracy theories to the point where he made us write an essay making up and then backing our own conspiracy theories
and then my english 102 professor, he was very hot and very jewish and introduced himself by giving us a link to a fucking skateboarding compilation video of himself look i just dont have a lot to say for myself. he told a bunch of really bad jokes and i was able to finish all of them because i too love a bad joke
Where do you see yourself in ten years?: hopefully in the forge with sweat dripping and glistening off my amazing and beautiful muscled arms and any boy who happens to be around me when i flex starts crying
If you could go anywhere where would you go? sweden. i just have some kinda Thing drawing me there, i think. i make friends so easily with swedes too like i just love y’all’s vibe, sweden. adopt me.
Coolest Halloween Costume: i dunno about coolest, but i did some pretty nice ones just because my mom is a pretty good seamstress. i think my favorite when i was a kid was dark!willow (y’know, when [redacted] [redacted] and she went crazy and like. veiny in her grief idfk)
Favourite 90s tv show?: buffy the vampire slayer, maybe obvious by my last answer lmfao
Last Kiss: ben :c i miss him so much, he was my closest friend in arizona, he understood me so so well and just has the most gentle trustworthy vibe and god i love him!! i love him! 
Have you ever been stood up? nope!
Have you ever been to Las Vegas: lmao nah
Favourite pair of shoes: i have a pair of chunky heeled mary jane pumps with like, a sort of vintage floral pattern god they’re so cute they’re my evie shoes
Favourite fruit: blackberries or huckleberries (if you’ve never had huckleberries you HAVE to come to the inland northwest and stuff your fucking gob with them they are indescribably delicious)
Favourite Book: probably obvious, we need to talk about kevin (at least currently)
Stupidest Thing You’ve Ever Done: i’ve done A LOT OF STUPID SHIT IN MY LIFE WHERE DO I FUCKING START
the story i always like to tell to just. showcase how fucking stupid i am is the time that i got locked out of garwood elementary at 12 years old during a dance recital. (i’m typing really fast now bc my brother told me to get on wow to do a dungeon FUCK) so i was.... idk a dumb kid! with adhd! who can’t sit still and wait in a room for 3-4 hours to do like three two-minute dances and then go home like i’m fucking bored yo!!! so i always wanted to explore whatever venue we were in and normally we did the community college in coeur d’alene and there’s lots of places to go in their arts/theatre building like elevators and shit like i don’t know. but garwood was not my home elementary school and i was also unaware that all the fucking doors were locked so i and two friends that i suckered into coming with me went out onto the playground and immediately got locked outside for the next like.... 45 minutes? two hours? i dont have any idea but nobody could find us until the recital was over and the studio owner was so. fucking worried lmfao bc i took her daughter with me (oops) but my mom was just like ‘what the fuck, [redacted]’
so that’s my story i’m a fucking dumbass
tagging: @nonmortem-somnifratrem, @jimmiestoorustled, @questionboxjuliet if any of y’all feel like it idk lmao
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stonerkat96 · 8 years
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Bored so just gonna do em all lol
1: How tall or short do you wish you were? I love being tall but short girls are cute so really idk 
2: What’s your dream pet? (Real or not) dragon 
3: Do you have a favorite clothing style? Uhhh, i wear like a bunch of different styles, so idk alternative maybe. 
4: What was your favorite video game growing up? Barbie as a little girl, there was this cool computer one, n then grand theft auto san Andrés lmao
5: What three things/people do you think of most each day: I hate this question, smoking, J, and what I'm gonna do with my life 6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say? Warning, always honey and like things to be very specific /always asks questions 7: What is your opinion on [insert person/thing here]? -----
8: What is your Greek personality type? [Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic].... i don't mean to be bland but, what? 
9: Are you ticklish? No, and yes, sometimes ? 
10: Are you allergic to anything? Lol jalapeños, codeine and bees 
11: What’s your sexuality? Straight, a little bi curious also intimidated by females
12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa? Coffee or cocoa
13: Are you a cat or dog person? Both theres no in between 
14: Would you rather be a vampire, elf, or merperson? Im already an elf, so there. 
15: Do you have a favorite Youtuber? I guess Jenna marbles i don't really you tube much 
16: How tall are you? 5'8
17: If you had to change your name, what would you change it to? I honestly don't even know 
18: How much do you weigh? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!]. 125 lb
19: Do you believe in ghosts/spirits? 👻👻👻👻👻
20: Do you like space or the ocean more? The ocean 
21: Are you religious? Not really
22: Pet peeves? Silverware scratching together, inconsiderate people, people with no manners, bad drivers, dramatic people, preppy attitudes, 
23: Would you rather be nocturnal or diurnal [opposite of nocturnal]? Diurnal i love summer 
24: Favorite constellation? Gemini 
25: Favorite star? North star idk actually 
26: Do you like ball-jointed dolls? Yes and no 
27: Any phobias or fears? I fucking hate moths not so good with heights 
28: Do you think global warming is real? YES HOW IS THIS A QUESTION 
29: Do you believe in reincarnation? I have no idea 
30: Favorite movie? Oh god, the sound of music is what first comes to mind, I'm sure here many more. 
31: Do you get scared easily? Depends?? 
32: How many pets have you own in your lifetime? 9 
33: Blog rate? ------------
34: What is a color that calms you? Bluueee
35: Where would you like to travel and/or live? Canada, Germany. 
36: Where were you born? Vancouver Washington, usa 
37: What is your eye color? Hazel, brown 
38: Introvert or extrovert? Introvert that tries extroverting 
39: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs? Yes lol
40: Hugs or kisses? Hugsss but lovee kisses
41: Who is someone you would like to see/visit right now? Too many to list 
42: Who is someone you love deeply? Alexander 
43: Any piercings you want? I want my septum back, wish i had to tits to pierce my toung n nipples. 
44: Do you like tattoos and piercings? Duuh 
45: Do you smoke or have you eiver done so? Ive smoked cigs but quit and i smoke hella kron
46: Talk about your crush, if you have one! 
47: What is a sound you really hate? Metal on metal metal on glass the sound of people yelling 
48: A sound you really love? Moans, rain, kitten mews 
49: Can you do a backflip? No :( 
50: Can you do the splits? No 👺
51: Favorite actor and/or actress? Ugh whats her face 
52: Favorite movie?.... really 
53: How are you feeling right now? Kinda dumb lol 
54: What color would you like your hair to be right now? Purple or blue 
55: When did you feel happiest? Omg i don't know uhhh 
56: Something that calms you down?food, bongs, sex, animals, hugs, 
57: Have any mental disorders? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!] no ? Not real ones lol 
58: What does your URL mean? Anchorite is someone who secludes themselves away due to religious reasoning and ailurophile is someone who loves cats so basically i seclude myself away for cats. Idk i was young when i made this. 
59: What three words describe you the most? Sweet, goofy, homebody 
60: Do you believe in evolution? 
61: What makes you unfollow a blog? User is extremely fake, out for the fame mostly 
62: What makes you follow a blog? Cute, energetic, stoners, artistic, relative content to what i post etc
63: Favorite kind of person: happy kind funny energetic out going but not too popular 
64: Favorite animal(s): turtles cats dogs 
65: Name three of your favorite blogs. @northernmanhood is the only dirty blog i like lmao then @brianna-n-s and @littlewriterman But honestly i have loads of favorite blogs 66: Favorite emoticon:❤️😘🌷😊
67: Favorite meme:i don't have one 😋
68: What is your MBTI personality type?what ???? 
69: What is your star sign? Gemini 
70: Can your dog roll over on command, if you have a dog? Yes but shes getting old
71: What outfit out of all your clothes do you like to wear the most?leggings and a t shirt for comfort and in the summer shorts and belly shirts 
72: Post a selfie or two? I have posted many selfies
73: Do you have platform shoes? No I'm tall enough don't wear heels 
74: What is one random but interesting fact about yourself? I was born missing half my ear and a bine, causing me too be deaf until i was 7 and had a procedure done :) 
75: Can you do a front flip? Yes on a trampoline but i cant land it lol 
76: Do you like birds? If there far away and i cant hear them lol 
77: Do you like to swim? I love to swim 
78: Is swimming or ice skating more fun to you? Swimming for sure
79: Something you wish didn’t exist: depression 
80: Some thing you wish did exist: fair healthcare in the usa 
81: Piercings you have? None rn
82: Something you really enjoy doing: hiking, smoking, playing video games. 
83: Favorite person to talk to: my best friend mariah 
84: What was your first impression of Tumblr? Must have lol
85: How many followers do you have? Like 350
86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes? I doubt i could run a mile 
87: Do your socks always match? No lol 
88: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely? I mean you're not supposed to lock you knees but yes 
89: What are your birthstones? Pearl and alexandrite 
90: If you were an animal, which one would you be? A black cougar 
91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be? A tulip 
92: A store you hate? Walmart 
93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day? Uh idk ive never tested it but usually one or two 
94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds? Fly, reading minds would be destructive 
95: Do you like to wear camo? Not a hunter so no 
96: Winter or summer? Summmmmeeerrrrr
97: How long can you hold your breath for?1 minute lol baby lungs 
98: Least favorite person? Lets not go there 
99: Someone you look up to: i cNt think of anyone
100: A store you love? H&m lol
101: Favorite type of shoes boots
102: Where do you live? Oregon
103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why? Nope 
104: What is your favorite mineral or gem? Amethyst or blue sapphire 
105: Do you drink milk? I loove milk 
106: Do you like bugs? No what who likes bugs lol 
107: Do you like spiders? Really no lol
108: Something you get paranoid about? Police! Not being attractive to my partner 
109: Can you draw: yeah i can 
110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked? This question 
111: A question you hate being asked? Do you have a job 
112: Ever been bitten by a spider? If you haven't you're one lucky bitch 
113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach? Absolutely love
114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days? Sunny. I love clouds. 
115: Someone you’d like to kiss or cuddle right now: j. Alex
116: Favorite cloud type: rain cloud ☁️ in the sunset 
117: What color do you wish the sky was? The color it is 
118: Do you have freckles? No
119: Favorite thing about a person: personality 
120: Fruits or vegetables? Fruits
121: Something you want to do right now: go to the beach 
122: Is the ocean or sky prettier? Damn good question. The sky 
123: Sweet or sour foods? Sweet 
124: Bright or dim lights? In between 
125: Do you believe in a certain magical creature?unicorns!!! Lol jk
126: Something you hate about Tumblr: blogs that reblog your pictures with nasty captions, and you cant report posts 
127: Something you love about Tumblr: the posts 
128: What do you think about the least? Lol 
129: What would you want written on your tombstone? Lazybonez
130: Who would you like to punch in the face right now? No one atm
131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself? My face 
132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures? Sometimes
133: Computer or TV? Computer
134: Do you like roller coasters? Yesss
135: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness? Nopeers
136: Are your ears lobed or attached? Lobed??? 
137: Do you believe in karma? Sometimes
138: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are? 6
139: What nicknames do you have/have had? Sunny. Bug, kyrie, ky ky. Ky kyie 
140: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends? Lol I used to 
141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink? Therapist in HS
142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others? Both just depends on my mood lol 
143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help? Giving 
144: What makes you angry RUDE PEOPLE 
145: How many languages do you speak fluently? 1 
146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries?booysss
147: Are you androgynous?what 
148: Favorite physical thing about yourself: my stomach 
149: Favorite thing about your personality: im a nice person
150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person. J. Gentry, rachel
151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose? Does skyrim time count ??? Medieval lol 
152: Do you like BuzzFeed? Sometimes 
153: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? [If you have one.] meet me online lmao
154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons? Yes of corse 
155: Do you like to play with others’ hair? I like to play with his but he doesn't like it lol
156: What embarrasses you? Not really gonna put that here.. 
157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious: being unwanted, money, family sickness 
158: Biggest lie you have ever told: :( 
159: How many people are you following? 1,500 or something i think 
160: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)? 4k prob 
161: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)? 4
162: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)?uhh i haven't looked 
163: Last time you cried and why: yesterday because my bf snapped at me lmao 
164: Do you have long or short hair? Medium 
165: Longest your hair has ever been: too my butt 
166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religon? Dislike, controls the mind 
167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created? Yes and no 
168: Do you like to wear makeup? Yes and no lol haha 
169: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds? No :( 
170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully? Yes
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just-jordie-things · 8 years
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300 FOLLOWERS!? I LOVE YOU SO MUCH GUYS SO I WENT THRU AND ANSWERED THE ASKS
1. what’s your favorite food?
i think sushi.  smoked eel nigiri roll, and trust me, it’s amazing
2. do you have any ‘special’ talents?
maybe writing idk i’m an average writer
3. what’s your zodiac sign?
leo
4. have any siblings? older or younger? brother or sister? do you get along?
younger brother, and we’re like best friends.  we get into a lot of trouble together
5. what was your first ship?
the first one i was head over heels for would be scallison.  still am.
6. how old are you?
16 in july
7. if you had to get married right now, who would you choose and why?
ummm dyaln o’brien? sorry that was an unrealistic question i’m probably always gonna answer with him.  a l w a y s
8. any interesting life mini stories?
ok so last summer, i was hanging out with my bff @taegdcl1018, and she lives by the playground so we went to hang out there.  it was real chill, swinging and listening to music and stuff.  and when i got up and started walking, there was A BEE ON MY SHIRT.  so i screamed, and started wigging out, and of course brooklyn is like ‘girl chill’ (and tbh bees don’t scare me that much) anyways, this bee is still on my shirt, and im running around, and it’s still stuck on it.  and THAT my sweeties, is how i took my shirt off in a public playground.  NO WORRIES THO! there was no one around besides me and my bff, and she gave me her over shirt thingy before we left.  (also, it’s still difficult for me to wear that shirt.  it’s like i have PTSD)
9. who are your favorite artists/musicians right now?
melanie martinez, twenty one pilots, lana del rey, halsey, marilyn manson, blue october, blackbear, arctic monkeys, and kaleo
10. Want kids? Why?
i like the idea, but i think i’d say no.  i’m just not that responsible, not enough to care for a little person who would need me
11. hobbies?
writing, reading, playing piano, drawing, collaging (if that’s how you’d put it?) and editing
12. any pets?
oui, a chihuahua named delilah that my friends and i call taco
13. favorite ship(s)?
STYDIA MALEC MALIRA SCALIA AND MANIGGY
14. best cartoon?
Bob’s Burgers.  I love it.
15. best friends?
@taegdcl1018 and @peter-andhislostgirls.  they’re my besties.  we’re mermaids.
16. what color are your eyes?
morning sky blue lmao
17. what is your relationship status?
utterly single but flirting 
18. favorite pair of shoes?
PURPLE CONVERSE I PAINTED WHITE AND USED SHARPIE TO WRITE STUFF ON
19. favorite snapchat filter?
the bunny with the snow lol
20. favorite book?
The Replacement, by Brenna Yovanoff
21. opinion on drugs/alcohol?
gross.  i don’t like to judge, but I don’t like people throwing their lives away.
22. dream vacation?
Los Angeles.  everywhere there, just walking in the streets and listening to music
23. how many pictures are on your phone?
2,030
24. best ice cream flavor?
chocolate chip cookie dough with hot fudge 
25. where do you go to shop?
hot topic and forever 21 are my favorite
26. favorite class?
enriched english.  from the literature we get to read and the comedic of a teacher, it’s just great.
27. most embarrassing memory?
um, did you not read the story about the bee on my shirt?
28. what’s one of your favorite memories?
spending one of my bffs birthday watching horror movies in our underwear and hello kitty blankets.  there was also home made cake and doggos involved
29. what are your five most frequently played songs?
1. Where’s My Love - Syml 2. Drive - Halsey 3. Killing Strangers - Marilyn Manson 4. Hard For - Kevin Gates 5. Crazy In Love - Beyonce (um the 50 Shades of Grey remix…)
30. play any instruments?
piano and i used to know guitar and ukulele but it’s been a while
31. best breakfast meal?
chocolate chip pancakes with a shit ton of butter
32. who was the last person you called?
@taegdcl1018 for 2 hours and 17 minutes last night.  we discussed doing a collab ;)
33. fries or onion rings?
fries
34. daytime or night time?
night time.  it’s much more peaceful and overall more beautiful
35. how many languages do you know?
english and I’d like to say french, but i’m not fluent so i don’t think it counts
36. if you could only date one character from Teen Wolf, who would you date? why?
Malia Tate.  I feel like we could really teach each other things and she’d be overprotective and cute and yeee
37. best friend IRL and best friend via social media?
BEST FRIENDS IRL @taegdcl1018 and @peter-andhislostgirls and my best friends via social media are @failingmemequeen and Sarah (who doesn’t have a tumblr)
38. favorite picture?
there’s one my friend took in the lunch room last year, a selfie of her and my other bffs
39. fanfiction or fanart?
fanfiction 
40. when did you first start writing fanfics?
two years ago, my first teen wolf was a scallison one that i wrote before i even watched the show
41. favorite type of noodle?
the mac and cheese that looks like shells
42. favorite summer activity?
writing outside lol
43. if you could take a pic with one character at Disney, who would you choose?
alice from alice in wonderland.  i just love her.
44. best season of Teen Wolf?
i’m stuck between 3b and 6a
45. ok do you watch ANYTHING other than Teen Wolf?
I do! The Walking Dead, Riverdale, The Fosters, American Horror Story, Shameless, Orange is the New Black, Shadowhunters, Friends, and Pretty Little Liars
46. apple or samsung?
apple.  duh.
47. an annoying experience that you would like to vent about?
one time this girl told me if a man punches a woman, she should be grateful.  she claimed it was because of gender equality, which i am ALL for, but i thought it was disgusting, because if ANYONE punches you, no matter the gender, honestly i think you should just go ahead and punch them back
48. favorite pop tart flavor?
hot fudge sundae
49. McDonald’s, Burger King, or Wendy’s?
BK I can’t say no to a hershey pie
50. would you rather fly or be invisible?
hahahaa be invisible then my embarrassing moments wouldn’t be noticed
51. favorite board game?
candyland or monopoly 
52. circus or magic show?
magic show bc my brother loves magic tricks and i always get to see him try them and it’s just funny
53. waterpark or amusement park?
amusement park, i love rollercoasters and thrills!
54. any sentimentally valuable possessions?
my grandmothers first engagement ring, she gave it to me
55. what’s your favorite mode of travel?
car trips
56. what piece do you choose to be in Monopoly?
the top hat.  i love hats.
57. when was the last time you cried? why?
yesterday because i read SUCH a good stiles angst i teared up
58. favorite Marvel character?
ooh….um…. if i HAD to choose, i think i’d have to choosequicksilver from the X-Men franchise.  woot woot evan peters!
59. any nicknames?
yea: potato, captain crunch, and scoot.
60. what will be/is your senior quote?
“if someone from the future doesn’t come to stop you from doing something, then how bad can it be?
61. play any sports?
HELL NAH
62. if you were stranded on an island and had to bring 3 other people, who would they be and why?
my besties brookie and tay, and dylan o’brien cuz i’m gonna need entertainment somehow
63. lucky numbers?
8, 88, 666, and 18
64. label yourself (ethnicity, gender, sexuality etc)
i’m a white, bisexual, atheist woman
65. dogs or cats?
i love both so much but kittens man…
66. scooters or skateboards?
scooters.
67. favorite DC character?
harley quinn by far
68. bugs bunny or daffy duck?
daffy duck
69. are you sexually expierienced? (lol iyt #69 so i had to)
does reading smut count?
70. did you have a valentine this year?
I DID! 
71. vlogging or blogging?
so i do have a tumblr and technically it’s called a blog but i mean it’s not really a blog.  and sometimes my friend and i pretend to be vloggers so i guess vlogging
72. pandas or polar bears?
panda bears
73. favorite hello kitty character?
tuxedo sam
74. if you were going to travel to another country, where would you go?
Savoy France, to see a girl that I’ve become friends with and have wanted to see for a while
75. most used emoji?
the squid.  it just looks so happy and joyful.  i use it to tell people i love them
76. why did you start writing?
fanfiction? bc i was disappointed in jeff davis for killing off an angel who didn’t deserve it.
77. favorite fanfic?
I CAN’T CHOOSE!!! everything @writing-obrien has ever done
78. what’s your favorite show to binge?
teen wolf and riverdale
79. dresses or skirts?
i like both but i’m always in jeans.  but probably skirts 
80. favorite app?
tumblr duh
81. favorite word?
mechanical
82. what’s your favorite thing to write about?
stiles imagines and things about trees
83. who is your inspiration? for anything really
writing-obrien aforementioned for writing.  and twenty one pilots for music
84. would you rather go to neverland or wonderland?
wonderland! I want an unbirthday tea party!
85. favorite actor?
dylan o’brien
86. favorite actress?
crystal reed
87. favorite youtuber?
brandon rogers.  11/10 RECOMMEND WATCHING
88. if you could live in any fantasy land where would you pick and why?
still wonderland, because i feel like it’d just be so much fun lol
89. sleeping or eating?
ooh that’s a toughie.  probably eating.  I’m a high class food slut
90. favorite letter of the alphabet?
Z
91. fruits or veggies?
fruits
92. modern or ancient?
both?
93. smut, fluff, or angst?
fluff is my #1 but i like it all
94. if you were to go into a battle, what would be your weapon of choice?
probably a unicorn horn.
95. unicorns or pegasuses?
more unicorns!
97. thoughts on swearing?
swearing is so fucking dumb.  like why fucking do that you fucking fuck?  lmao swearings ok in the appropriate places.  not in a kindergarden classroom, but who cares if you’re at a bar?
98. reading or writing?
UGH WHY MAKE ME CHOOSE! I’M SKIPPING THIS ONE
99. big cities or small town country sides
big cities
100. east coast or west coast?
livin on the east coast but dreamin of the west
101. what do you love about your favorite character?
i love the way she really delves into her emotions, even though everyone thinks she doesn’t really have any, you can really tell what she’s feeling through her eyes, and that’s hard to do when it’s on a screen and not written in a fanfiction
thank you guys so sooo much for 300 follows! it made me tear up this morning, and means a lot to me that people actually like and enjoy my writings and i really hope that the only way i can go, is up, and i just really hope that i still have the love and support you guys give to me :) big hearts and big hugs for every one of you
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chumimiiiin · 5 years
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Lolita 100 questions tag
1. Screen-name and date of birth, please tell us these~
Chumimiin/Alice, 6/6 2. Height, weight, clothing size, and shoe size? 1,65 m / 54 kg / M / 39 3. Why did you start to dress lolita?
I fell in love with the lolita aesthetic at a really young age, when I discovered Japanese culture and subcultures. For years and years I wished I could be able to wear such gorgeous clothes once I grew up, so many years later my dream came true 4. Which style of lolita do you like? My favourite style is classic, but I love old school as well. Also I have a thing for sweet otome! 5. Express in your own words, the ideal of your above answer.
Various elements and colours that look really good together and a key concept that keeps everything united. 6. Do you have piercings? Where? Both earlobes. 7. Which brands do you like? Innocent World, Emily Temple Cute, Victorian Maiden, Baby the Stars Shine Bright. 8. Which are your favourite clothes (that you have)? Westminster JSK and Crown Jewels JSK by IW, Twinkle Tartan Heart Pocket JSK 9. How many lolita friends do you have? IDK MANY but unfortunately I don’t see them very often.
10. What do you love most about lolita? The huge variety of prints, the love for details and gorgeous materials, the femininity and the creativity you necessarily need to coordinate various items for an outfit.
11. What do you hate about it? Any pet peeves? Not really. I’m just kinda sad this fashion is dying in my country.
12. What lolita magazines do you read? I don’t read any magazine on regular basis, but I own a couple of Kera.
13. Headdresses, bonnets or ribbons/hairbows? Berets and simple bows. 14. Do you wear bloomers? No but I’d love to own a pair of old school ones! 15. Do you tie headdresses at the front or in the back? Always at the front! You must SUFFER lmao 16. Who is your favourite band/type of music? I listen to many different genres, but my favourites atm are folk rock and lo-fi. 17. What is your phone ring tone~? A boring one 18. Do you go to concerts in lolita? Noooo I’m not crazy enough 19. For people who attend concerts: do you headbang there? It depends 20. What colours do you like? Pink, bordeaux, black, gold. 21. What are your hobbies? Drawing, cosplay, workout, taking long walks, watching movies/shows/documentaries. 22. If you have any favourite perfumes, please tell us. La Petite Robe Noire by Guerlain. It’s perfect for lolita fashion. 23. Is there anything you are careful of in lolita? About my dresses and makeup.
24. Do you have any favourite haunts to go to in lolita? Not really, I like to go to different places each time. 25. How many times a week do you dress lolita? I used to dress it really often, now it’s been 4 months since the last time I wore it (too hot here). 26. Please tell us an embarrassing story from when you were a lolita beginner. Since I used to lurk A LOT on the Internet before getting to actually wear lolita, I never had a super embarrassing ita phase, although my first coord wasn’t that good... 27. What is your current hairstyle and colour? Short curly dark brown hair. Not very suited for lolita but whatevs.
28. What is your lolita history?
Discovery : It was 2007, I believe
First real item : 2013. I went to Tokyo and bought some stuff from Bodyline and Closet Child
In between : lurking and lurking and lurking and crying over the beauty I couldn’t have.
29. Do you store your clothes in a special place? In one half of my closet. 30. Did you ever think about quitting lolita? What was the reason? I kinda lost interest in it during this year, but I’m falling again 31. What is your motto? I’m bad with mottos lmao 32. What are your dreams of the future? Being able to find my way and be happy. 33. “This person is so perfect for lolita!” - Do you ever think that about certain celebrities? No. 34. Are there any products/items of which you have with a fond memory? Westminster JSK, it was my dream dress and I was so happy when it came in the mail I was about to cry. 35. What was your first item? I can’t remember, maybe an OP from Bodyline. 36. Do you have a signature pose for photos? No, I keep it simple 37. What is your heart’s bible? [book/magazine/CD/etc…] IDK I can’t choose just one thing. 38. What is the best height (cm) for heels? 6 cm  39. Do you wear tiaras? No, I don’t like them. 40. Do you think you want to try prince style? What kind of prince? Gothic/dark prince? Or “prince on a white horse” style? I’d like to try it! I’d like to go for “gorgeous young prince living in a fairy tale” style. 41. What types of lace do you like? Torchon lace and some laces used by IW. 42. Do you own a doll? Does owning it give you fun, childish feelings? No, but I think they’re beautiful. 43. What is in your lolita bag? Wallet, phone, keys, pochette with emergency makeup (?), earphones, power bank. 44. What is your favourite flower? Hydrangeas. 45. Right now, what is your favourite accessory? An offbrand necklace with pearls and a crown pendant. 46. Please recommend some cosmetics. Revolution palettes, NYX epic ink eyeliner, Urban Decay contour palette 47. With eye-tape your eyes look like a doll’s! What eyelashes will you wear? NYX’s. 48. What is your eye makeup for these eyelashes? I like to change it every time 49. Red Lipstick? Blue? Black? Pink? Pink or soft orange. Or gradient lips with dark red/pink. 50. Which nail polish do you normally choose? Pink, bordeaux or black. 51. Have you ever changed in a train station bathroom? No. 52. What do you think of “twin” and “triplet” lolitas? Super cute! 53. How do you keep in shape for lolita? Recommend something. I keep in shape for my health, not for a fashion... 
54. Do you keep calm when you wear lolita alone in public? Not really, but I try to ignore everyone by listening to music and minding my business. 55. How much do you spend per month on clothes/accessories? I don’t spend much money anymore. 56. Was there a time lag between knowing about lolita and dressing in the fashion? Yes, I couldn’t afford it for a long time. 57. What is your most expensive lolita item? Westminster JSK 58. It takes a lot of money to be a lolita. How do you save? I work and resell stuff I don’t need anymore. 59. Just a little secret here… How much have you spent so far on lolita, roughly? I don’t know, some thousands of € 60. Is there a brand shop you want near where you live? IW, Emily Temple Cute, Leur Getter.
61. “Man, what a rip-off!!” Have you ever thought that about a store? Some AP dresses look cheap af in real life... 62. Do you shop online? If so, put the good & bad points here to advise others. Good point: huge variety of stuff. Bad point: shipping is expensive most of the times. 63. Is there a secret person/shop that you have commissioned a dress just for you from? No. 64. “I can never have that/see that happening!! But I will always want it!!” Is there a brand you think this of? Jane Marple and Victorian Maiden stuff, because it’s too expensive. Also, my ultimate dream dress: Lotta JSK in green by IW.
65. What do you do with the clothes you don’t want anymore? I try selling them. 66. What is your most recent purchase? (Even non-lolita.) Queen Mary Fragrance JSK in pink by ETC (my otome dream dress!) 67. Is there an item you love that you can’t buy/seem to find? Lots of Victorian Maiden stuff and veeeery old dresses 68. What do you think of people who only wear lolita to concerts? Do they really exist? 69. What do you think of lolitas without makeup? If they feel comfortable with no makeup, good for them. 70. Another lolita is wearing the same coordinate/clothes as you!! What do you do? ”TWEEEEEEEENSSSSS” 71. What age should you stop wearing lolita? when I get tired of it. I don’t think my anagraphic age would matter. 72. When do you think you should graduate from lolita? And why? See previous answer. 73. “You should stop doing that!!! >_<” What must a lolita not do? Passive-aggressively harassing other lolitas. I mean, what are you, 12? 74. “A lolita should be ‘this’!” What do you think that should be? A person who has fun with this fashion. 75. Besides #73, is there anything you should definitely not do while wearing lolita? Anything socially unacceptable/illegal lmao. 76. What do you think of men in lolita? Same thing of women in lolita. 77. Did you change yourself to be a lolita? I try to act more feminine.
78. What does your family and other people think of you dressing lolita? And do you accept it? My mother loves it, my sister thinks it’s a weird hobby and kind of a waste of money, but she likes it overall. 79. How do you wear lolita in the boiling mid-summer? No. 80. Have you gone to school or work in lolita? Both.
81. How do you dress normally? Very genderless. 82. Do you think twice about buying second-hand clothes? I avoid buying items in very bad conditions. 83. Do you have a boyfriend? (or husband?) Does he understand lolita? No. 84. Please tell us about your ideal man. I don’t have one. 85. What lolita has left a big, shiny impression on you so far? Fanny Rosie
86. Have you made your own clothes? What are they like? No but I want to sew something soon. 87. Have you made your own accessories? What did you make? I made a bow and two straw hats. 88. Think about the best item you have made! What is it? One of the hats. It has white and lilac flowers and a gingham ribbon. 89. Please tell us about the most perfect lolita coordination you wear. I don’t really remember lol 90. Do you admire someone? What are they like? IDK 91. “One day I will go on a date with that person.” What would you like to wear for him? Not lolita.
92. If you want one, what type of store would you open in the future? A multibrand j-fashion store. 93. Something catches your eye. What is this motif? Flowers, keys, crowns, gingham, books. 94. Would you dress your child in lolita? I don’t want children. 95. How much do you spend on one outfit? 200/350 € 96. “This is lolita!!” Please say what you would say this about. Something with good quality lace and bows. 97. “I have always wanted to try that once!” What, in the lolita world, have you wanted to try wearing? Ouji! 98. Look at yourself in lolita. In one word/phrase, how would you express your style/image? Well balanced. 99. What is your lolita ideal? Having a wardrobe I’d be proud of. 100. Thank you for taking this baton!! Tell us what you think! It took me 27 years but it was fun
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