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silvermuffins · 1 year

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Pokmon Scarlt Livblog! Part...6?

My laptop's E key has did mostly so I'm gonna copypast th ltter in as neeeeded but pardon if i miss any

IM IN WATeR CITY

i think i explored everything? so it's gym test "hike through the desert" time, yeah?

oh this copypaste thing may not work im neveer gonna rmmbr plase ky just work

anyway off into sand i go

Silicobra! You'll be Marvin Rufflet is Coby.

oh thank god i found a way to hit my e key where it works consistently

Stonjourner! You're Amazon bc you're all boxes. Feerv the Cacnea.

TUMBLWEEED? Bramblin??? Pooki.

ARVEN'S CALLING. I forgot there's a Titan here....but I have gyms to tackle first.... Oooh I think I found a scarab? Rellor? You're Rab.

I'm on a cliff up high above a plain and I love that they put in an animation to look like wind's blowing through the grass like a ghibli moviOOH LARVESTA you're Bemi.

Oooh, grass tera Sandygast! I'll take it. If I can ever whittle down the damn thing. Its name will be Divit.

also can i just take have a second to scree. the person who inspired me to start liveblogging stuff bc they liveblogged a game i love and it was really funny and i go reread it when im sad. is back on tumblr. and also following now. aaaa??? holy shit. im never gonna be that entertaining but i hope i bring someone joy.

Oh neveermind on Divit it used curse. after i broke its tera.

man i wish the big smile expressions on characters didn't open their mouths so wide. it's not THAT common an expression and just looks weird as a static facee people make

Girafarig! You'r Racecar. Meowth doesn't get a regional form this gen, aww. I'll name you Kunker.

hck it let's try a tera raid....oh this is neat and simple and fun and this flying Pinco will be Divit. Hy, Fidget is evolving! Okay tim to swap Lokix out forrrr....Koris. Get a fire type in here. OH, Now Daya is evolving! AAAAAAA time to see! Quaquaval! Holy shit. Holy shit I love him. Look at him, he's fabulous.

Shellder! Gryt. Arrokuda! Shwing. Pincurchin! Yoach.

i am once again shit at putting a sammich together, though i have yet to have a total flop...man evry pokmon on this beach is so aggro.

I hav arrivd in Porto Marinada! doodedoo explorin'

vaultin' veluza! Who are you? Hugo? You're gonna REGRET EVERYTHING

the fuck are thy auctioning that i had to run all th way out here...seaweed? huh. wait you're making ME bid? SIR. SIR I AM TWELVE. oh no did i accideentally skip a tutorial.....aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAA

okay i did it and without spending all of the money. oooh rotom catalog? what's that? ohhh it lets m change rotom's form. time, now, to fly back to cascarrafa, and beat kofu!

i wonder what the normal gym test for kofu is? doodedoo battle time. wham zap [leaf sound effects]....kids he's playing with ME right now. oh he's popular.

sir i could eat a gyarados

I find myself contending with the weather more than th pokemon. Crabominable will tera to water, but is naturally ice/fighting...oh my god stop KOing my pokmon so fast I want the XP

there we go. and tyse is evolving! Dolliv oh my god that's so cute. OH MY GOD THE BADGE PHOTO.

nemona pls....interesting how few battles i'm having against you.

okay! my next goal is the normal gym, then I'll double back to the desert titan....mmmrgh i'd intended to put two gyms between the bases and titans (so like, gym gym titan base gym gym titan base) but now am unsure if I should stick to that. they're not rally laid out in a way that makes that convenient...

you knwo what. w'ree gonna take a break whil we mull this over.

i have slept! w will stick with the plan for now which mans the desert titan gonna have to wait, we're tackling the normal gym next. After that we will return to Levincia and head north to deal with atticus and a titan.

tackles a grass tera drifloon raid, you're Shoon. Oh, Jupe can take most of the local wildlife but needs guidance for girafarig. Ooh, ghost tera naclstack! ...oh damn it, it used Curse and is now low HP, but didn't break its tera. idt i'm getting this one. actually...i just might. Crit captur, you'r gonna b Doony!

Colonnade Hollow is my second of the ten sights! Ooh, there's Noivern here, you're Storm. And Salandit....I might hold out for a lady, though. Found one! You'll be Linny. Oooh, Gible, you will be Soozoo....except that Jupe got a crit and killed you. Wll, here's a Larvitar. Wee go straight to great balls here. You'll be Soozoo instead. nother gible, you're gonna be Gorp. oh goddammit another ill timed crit. there's Sableye heree, Yurma. GIBLE. Managed to weaken it without killing it now it just needs to stay in th ball. Finally.

man th lake is gorgeous...found a Croagunk! You're Hoplit. Nuzzl is gotta be one of the most usful skills for catching pokemon. This Basculin will be Odri. Oh! Sotero is evolving! Garganacl...

Man I hav so many Pokmon to evolve but i havee no idea how many of theem hav weirdass methods like "three crits in one battle" or "usee x item under the full moon"

you know. stuff i basically need to look up to have any hope.

anyway iiiithought this was a foongus but it's a zorua! I hereby dub thee Chaunet. Thre's Tropius here! Nanneer! Oh and there ARe Foongus here! Joy. That's th nam. No it's not you're far too annoying to be Joy. You're Spiv.

Ugliest sandwich yet holy shit. whatever it unfaintd two of my pokemon. Singa th Shroomish. OH i found spookdog! You're Bashal.

...i bet ditto hide on the overworld the way zorua do. fuck. im never gonna find one....

aaaaaaa why do work want me at 3:15.. i am still at war with the letter e. it works sometimes, now. kind of proves that it just needs good cleaning.

one workday later, we are back!

man the music in this game is nice....why do my pokemon all take naps all the time. Jupe is out for some autobattling and just konked out. picnic? mass naptime.

jupe is passed out on the ground and there's a wild deerling making confused deer noises at me

doodedoo wandering about beating up cats trees monkeys snake mice pigs...banana dinos....i know some of these pokemon are ditto but i do not feeel like searching for one

!!!! Jupe is evolving! awww Pawmot got anime hair! WAIT PEBBLES IS EVOLVING TOO? Oh my gosh Tinkaton is even more of a terror.

Gonna give it a little longer to see if Sotero makes the final roster....still have two slots for evolving pokemon!

I arrive in Medali! ...why's that not a theatr anymore?

quick break to do a raid....lectric finizen! I want this thing. Tricky fight tho. GOTCHA, name o' Klight. !!! TOEDSCOOL. Oh goddammit I accidentally killed it.

back to xploring town. including the treasure eatery. ...thre is no battle court in this town. w're gonna fight in or on top of the eatery aren't we.

theeere's nemona. You gonna fight me this time? oh okay, gym first. man nemona what is up with you.

larry the everyman...he's gonna b one of those cases of "most normal man in the world is actually a total freak" isn't he, like try guys kith or something. Seems absolutely normal and average and basic in every way but the more you look the more you're like oh that is a wholeass kind of guy.

oh this is an intresting gym test! ooh okay my hint is lemon. There's a talking squawkabilly saying medium. Time to beat some other folks up for clues. Oh the student just tells me to listen to squawkabilly. Found another student!

Oh hey Tyse is evolving! Arboliva...well time to swap out for Beep & Boop. Okay new clue is the amphitheatre. Fire Blast? AHA another student! Odd on out at an ic cream stand...grilled rice balls! I think that's all the clus...

Grilled rice balls, medium serving, cooked extra crispy, with a dash of lemon!

ohhhh yeah the food court is the gym stage. okay let's fight! ....oh he's the depressed businessman who told me lemon. he looks like he badly needs a nap. what's this about his boss docking his pay??

is there some kind of bullshit in the league this time? oh what's a dudunsparce?

that whole scene, with the customers...llife isn't all just being true to yourself.... Larry are you okay? Larry. Larry, blink twice if you need help.

oh shit he oneshotted Jupe. that's fine I have a Sotero.

oh he eats a lot huh...i noticed Facade was his favorite move. Larry is upsetting? Pokemon why are you doing this to me.

Geeta is here! Geeta are you the one working Larry to the bone. Nemona interrupts us. What was that 'and' gonna be? I already figured Geeta was the champ of champs. Well, you know. Until I get to her.

once again. nemona acts as though i am cheating on her. nemona are YOU okay?

Geeta why do you have to phrase it as a rebirth. Geeta why does this all seem sus?

oh thank god geeta is healing me before nemona drags me into a fight. Skeledirge? The fuck's that? Sounds ghostly... OH. OH IT'S CROC.

SINGING. CROCODILE. oh i have GOT to see a gnoggin video on this thing.

there's new classes so time to go hang out at school for a bit...but first. the Great Crater may be off limits, but the road up to it should be just fine! ...this is less interesting than I thought. Okay back to school.

Oh! Primeape has an evolution now?! involving a move... ...??? When did I get a Maushold? Holy shit! Beep & Boop have kids, you guys! Beeplet and Booplet!!! Holy fuck! It didn't evolve on screen it just. Happened? Is that normal?!

either way i suppose I am swapping them out for something else now....maybe Koris too idk how to evolve him but idt it's normal?

time to just shove random pokemon in my team until they evolve, rn we got Vani and Ankles

man it's pretty cool that the trainer school ACTUALLY teaches you things this time. and from across the spectrum! trivia, lore, mechanics....

??? Fairy tale....king, treasure (always treasure), other regions...vessel, sword, tablets, beads. Sword and tablets, huh. Wouldn't....wouldn't happen to be ruinous, would they..../gulps and glances back toward those stakes and lids....

overnight disaster. you. you don't say.

i foresee this going dramatically eventually but yes please tell me the end please

oh shit they were pokemon? oh shit i'm gonna have to catch them. which means unsealing them.

hey teach you won't be mad at me if i unleash ancient disasters in pursuit of science right

....Heath? The dude from Shadows of Almia?

i sure hope i won't miss out on hangouts by binging classes first

thre are. people getting lp by. hacking. looks at cassiopeia hacing my phone and giving me lp.....

Brassius!!!! in classius!!! ....oh snap was Brassius once ready to give up entirely.....help they're cute

oh yeah brassius was absolutely once ready to self-destruct. this is wholesome, honstly. gtting advice and ncouragement from those who have been low is always more real and inspiring than from the best of the best.

oh my god turn hassel into an octopus already (today in jokes a limited number of people will get: this). ....oh shit i haven't ben to glaseado yet. thats fine i can google,,,,,

knew it, arven's after advice on food.

classes are done! time for hangouts. then i will rest.

oh.... ....i wonder if Hassel is related to Lance and Clair...

i WILL find sweets for cactus sensei

oh are miriam and dendra girlfriends? i want them to be, now. YES. DATING.

i hav flown to Lvincia and climbd th blu lighthous and am stopping hr for now! Nxt time: a titan and a base and hopefully a gym please arceus let me accomplish three objectives in on session

#letty plays pokemon scarlet #letty plays shit #livebloggin #we getting into it now #sorta #im totally not going to unleash some disasters hahaha

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jjungkookislife · 3 years

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Quarterly Fic Recs 2021 #2

Hello! I’m back with another rec list! Here are fics I’ve read, loved and thoroughly enjoyed in the second quarter of 2021! They are all very wonderful fics! Each story has its own genre, warnings (and are mostly 18+), so please take that into consideration before reading. If any authors would like me to untag them, please let me know. Enjoy!

Yoongi

before i leave you @hollyhomburg

summary: Yoongi Disappears- leaving behind a shattered pack. 8 months later, Jimin finds Yoongi in an H-mart of all places.

Hoseok

heart-on @junghelioseok

summary: my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick

Jungkook

charmolypi @njssi

summary: Work and pleasure should never be combined — or so the saying goes. But you were never really one to follow the rules in their entirety and neither were the ones around you. Love, lust, interest. Five people. In the workplace. What could go wrong? Everyone just wants to get something, after all.

when you least expect it @johobi

summary: You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.

wherever there is you @jeonstudios

summary: you’ve been drinking, haven’t you?

instant gratification @dovechim

fuckboi@jungkook x cheerleader!reader

haze @yyooni

summary: So you’ve fucked the biggest fuck boy on campus. It’s a one and done. One night stand. A wham bam thank you ma’am. So why does it happen again?

OT7/Multiple Members

because i’m yours @minniepetals

summary: you should have known they’d never let you go after gathering the courage to ask for a kiss

blazed @ironicarmy

summary: Your friends try to cheer you up during Christmastime, but things go south once Hoseok appears with a mysterious brown bag.

Seokjin

one step @cutechim

summary: attending an ex’s wedding is never easy, but you might just have the perfect remedy—if you can pluck up the courage to take it.

platonic @joheunsaram

summary: Finding a new method for stress relief, you rope in your bestfriend/fwb to try it out with you.

show me yours and i’ll show you mine @ktheist

summary: you’re a horny bunny yet kim seokjin always seems to manage to slide out of your grasps like a fox every time.

Yoongi

before i leave you pt. 7 @/hollyhomburg

summary: Pack omega kim Seokjin knows how to handle things when they go south (or alternatively you get triggered, Yoongi has a panic attack, and it’s a good thing the pack is there to help)

Hoseok

risky business @yoonjinkooked

summary: The person who invented smart glass office walls knew what they were doing. Your secretary fucks you stupid in the office.

snapshot @xjoonchildx

summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love

keep me warm @ppersonna

summary: camping is always a great time when you’re with your friends, but even better with your boyfriend, hoseok.

it’s you @jinpanman

summary: An accidental confession throws your years-long friendship with Hoseok into disarray.

Namjoon

love bytes @stutterfly

summary: It’s been a year since you first met Kim Namjoon, the passionate, talented English professor at the local campus. He’s always been clumsy and aloof, but he’s on a whole new level in terms of “technologically incapable.” One call to IT was all it took to pull you into his life, and with it a whole string of friendships full of flirtatious banter and undying support.

Your dating situation has been drier than the Sahara for years now, and you’ve wasted too many lonely nights drinking alone, so you try your hand at Tinder. But you’re not getting any bites. When the group finds out, they are more than willing to help–even Namjoon, though he finds it increasingly difficult to deny that he’s hopelessly smitten. You consider their opinions on potential Tinder dates while fighting off feelings you never knew were brewing for the caring soul who becomes the home you never had.

out of my league @/ppersona

summary: Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

so this is love @jinpanman

summary: “So this is the miracle that I’ve been dreaming of. So this is love.”

problem solved @sugasbabiie

summary: Namjoon helps you with more than math problems tonight.

love is @hxseok-honee

summary: they say that love is supposed to transcend time and space and that it knows no limits. but putting an ocean and thousands of miles between two people won’t make things any easier, will it?

Jimin

potent pink @dntaewithluv

summary: The first time you see Park Jimin you’re instantly entranced by him. And it turns out he lives in the apartment next to the one you’re moving into, so even better he’s your hot neighbor. When the previous tenant confesses to you that he was the best hook up she ever had, you’re that much more intrigued. The first time you meet him, however, you’re deciding immediately that you hate him and want to stay as far away from him as possible. Jimin is determined to be a constant in your life though, and he definitely is that. Both a constant flirt and a constant pain in your ass. Is a ruined second impression enough to prevent you from ever giving him a second chance?

Taehyung

hush, yeah? @kithtaehyung

summary: the innocent accident that started it all

unfinished business @/dntaewithluv

summary: Besides wanting to catch up with some old friends, there’s only one reason you found yourself agreeing to attend your 10 year high school reunion. The boy you were in love with back then is going to be there, and you’re determined to finally make your move. Except, unfortunately, it turns out that Kim Seokjin is very much happily married. Kim Taehyung, however, is very much single and feels like he has something to prove to you after you turned him down all those years ago. One night is all it takes to make you realize you made the biggest mistake of your life.

under the covers @jessikahathaway

spy!au

darling @bloomsuga

summary: “go to sleep, darling.”

as endless as the stars ^

summary: he waited 160 years to meet you again, and now that he has, he’s not letting go. or: “i love you as deep as the ocean and as endless as the stars”

dirty dishes @jaysdimples

summary: when your boyfriend can’t seem to keep his hands to himself so he stirs up a little trouble in the kitchen while everyone else is a few feet away in the next room

devotion @/sweetbunnykook

summary: You and Taehyung were inseparable once. When you come back to your hometown after three years, fate pulls you back to him. And this time, Taehyung won’t ever keep his eyes off of you.

Jungkook

commercial break; twelve @1kook

summary: Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee.

tease @adonis-koo

summary:You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

jock!jk @angelguk

summary: going raw with jock jk

evolution of a lover’s heart @jeonstudios

summary: the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins.

euphoria @btssavedmylifeblr

summary: At the end of your life, you are given one day to live again with the man you loved. A lifetime’s love story told in a single day.

idealizations concerning real life relations @venusiangguk

summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

relax @itsbuffsanta

summary: jk is antsy after the concert, so you help him relax.

employee of the month @/dntaewithluv

summary: Sometimes it truly amazes you how much of an idiot your boyfriend can be. But you also find it impossible to say no to him. Even when it involves letting him fuck you at his work on the same day that he gets awarded employee of the month…

ego 08 @suga-kookiemonster

summary: what’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way.

only you 10 @sweetbunnykook

summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.

lunchbox lovers @jiminrings

stem major!koo x cold senior!y/n

crunchyroll & rail @/1kook

summary: Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket.

only for you @jikookiekosmos

summary: It’s the night before your wedding and you should be happy…but a fight with your fiancé leaves you second guessing everything. A visit from the blue-haired boy of your dreams is just what you need to make it right.

lillies @dewykth

summary: “… white lines, pretty baby, tattoos, don’t know what they mean, they’re special just for you…”

bluekooberry @kimtaehyunq

summary: Your adoring boyfriend, Jungkook, surprises you with a brand new hairstyle before your trip to visit him for the weekend. He’s excited to see you, feed you, and give you exactly what you want.

bad reputation @noteguk

summary: in which you have to deal with some strange emotions for the first time.

not yet @bratkook

summary: jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship

incoming: elite chatboy @kookingtae

summary: welcome to Elite Chatroom, a sex chat company with a wide variety of services such as text messaging, phone call, and video chat. you signed up online for the most basic text service plan not knowing what to expect, but you certainly didn’t think you’d end up actually liking the man behind the screen.

ineffable @euphoria-vmin7

summary: your best friend Jeon Jeongguk has always been amazing and deserved the best, so you’ve hid your love for him. But unbeknowsnt to you, there may be feelings that could change everything between you two…

touch @gardentulips

summary: when you tease and please one another

Multiple Members

friendly fire @kpopfanfictrash

summary: The dynamic: Hoseok; your friend and previous fuck buddy. Jungkook; Hoseok’s roommate and subject of your massive crush. The scene: determined not to drunk-gush about your crush any more (to his face), you decide to seclude yourself from all campus parties. Until, of course, Hoseok guilts you into a favor. Things spiral from there.

the boys are back in town @/dntaewithluv

summary: Getting stood up by your date definitely hadn’t been on your agenda for the evening. Also definitely not on your agenda: bumping into Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook. Together. On the same exact night. It’s been a while since you’ve seen your two best friends, as well as lovers on multiple occasions, from your high school and college days. A chance meeting, some drinks, and a trip down memory lane is all it takes to reignite the attraction between the three of you. Old habits die hard, but these two? They just might be the death of you.

ruin you @taegularities

summary: “His eyes hold unfathomable darkness that lures you in, captures your very soul, steals any air you are trying to draw. And you know without a doubt that you’re on the path to utter and irrevocable ruination.”

ruin you (once more) ^

summary: Taehyung and Jungkook can’t keep their hands off you. Not even in the elevator.

Seokjin

kairos @luffles424

summary: When your financial aid falls through for your last year of school, you fear you’ll have to drop out and postpone your degree. Until Taehyung gives you a suggestion to make a lot of money, quick. His idea can’t possibly end well, can it?

appetence @luffles424

summary: appetence (n.) - an eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bondIt’s time for Seokjin’s rut. Are either of you prepared for this step?

tiny lights, tiny lies @ggukcangetit

summary: you aren’t sure when exactly your best friend’s brother went from being an oddly annoying set of broad shoulders to the shoulders you frequently fell asleep against.

Yoongi

the little things @kimtaehyunq

summary: When the present isn’t exactly enough for you right now, Yoongi is here for you through it all. He makes sure you know you aren’t alone and that it’s ok to feel alone.

cyberslut @kimnjss

summary: he has no idea who you are… up front, you’re sweet and innocent - but in reality you’re the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.

yoongi drabble @joonsgalore

life guard au

Hoseok

benefits @cutechim

summary: you and hoseok have taken the ‘friends’ out of friends with benefits, but exclusivity has its own perks.

Namjoon

namjoon drabble @lovetrivia

summary: You’re a hot girl on Twitch and Namjoon is an absolute simp.

Jimin

baby fever @writtenwhalien

summary: Jimin wants another baby, and much to your delight, he’s determined to give you one.

jimin drabble @/1kook

best friend au

small hands jimin drabble @lavishedinjimin

established relationship au

silk and lace @sunshyngal

summary: Min Nara is the newly dumped fiance to the Crown prince of Korea, Park Jimin. She’s not overtly upset , because at least now she can live her life without the pressure of the monarchy hanging over her head. Besides , Nara has a very dirty little secret. While she spends the day as the perfect high society girl with an impeccable pedigree , her nights are filled with lacy lingerie and webcams. Ignored by the man she’s meant to marry, she revels in the greedy lust of strangers on the internet. It’s her way of saying ‘fuck you’ to a system that sees her as nothing but a toy, molded for the future King. Park Jimin doesn’t know the first thing about his supposed fiancee. And he has no intention of learning either. He knows just what debutante girls are like and he has no patience for the kind. Besides, his girlfriend of three years, the elegant and independent Irene is everything he would ever want in a wife . Or is she?Because in the secrecy of his office , after the day’s work is done , Park Jimin has a very scintillating vice that he likes to indulge in : the beautiful camgirl who calls herself the Temptress. Jimin can’t get enough of the girl’s lush thighs wrapped in silk, the pretty pink of her nipples in see through bralettes and the glittering temptation of the jeweled plugs she likes to stuff herself full with.Jimin thinks she embodies everything he can never allow himself to have as a Prince : filth, sin and decadence , all wrapped up in Silk and Lace.

Taehyung

nip it in the bud @opaljm

summary: You’re not sure how you ended up here, but maybe a shitty ex and a horrible breakup had a hand in what placed you in front of the tattoo parlor. It was already a nerve-wracking experience, but what you never expected was seeing that the owner and artist giving you nipple piercings was your older brother’s best friend you hadn’t seen in ages. to make things even worse, he got fucking hotter.

taehyung drabble @joonsgalore

sugar daddy au

peanut @jungxk

summary: the making of peanut.

Jungkook

pretty kitty @venusiangguk

summary: you’re jk’s baby, his toy, and now his pretty little pet.

heavy metal @hisunshiine

summary: You come home from a trip to find your fuckbuddy has a… hole-y surprise.

devour @bloomsuga

summary: my sweet angel… i am going to devour you

grain of sand @jungkookiebus

summary: Blind since the age of 18 from a genetic disorder, Jungkook walked through life as if he never lost it, but on one fateful day seven years ago he literally almost runs into you. He fell in love nearly immediately. Fast forward to the present and it’s just another day in your quiet life with him by your side.

under the oak tree @mingoyeob

summary: as the eldest daughter of a duke, it’s your duty to marry at your father’s will. yet you didn’t expect to be marrying jeon jungkook, a knight of low status, especially when he departs for an expedition without another word after your first night. when he comes back three years later, this time as a renowned hero, how will you be able to face him and how will things change between you and your new husband?

jungkook drabble @1kook

dilf!jk

commercial break: thirteen ^

summary: Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today.

sh. @wwilloww

summary: How could you say no to a month away in the mountains with your friends after six months of grueling quarantine?

jungkook drabble @lavishedinjimin

daddy!jk

OT7/Multiple Members

the end @jimlingss

summary: It’s been a habit of yours to vent in the form of love letters. There’s six in total. They’re kept secret, hidden in your closet. But on your 30th birthday, what you least expect is for each letter to become reality. All done by the whacky ghost of Christmas future trying to grant your birthday wish.

#jjungkookislife fic recs #jjungkookislife fic recs masterlist #fic recs #fic recs masterlist

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years

Note

oh beloved writer can you please write a christmas date imagine for will poulter (even though it’s still summer) just pure fluff, where the reader and will go out to like a diner and then go buy a tree for their apartment (it’s their first christmas living together) and set it up and dance to christmas music and it’s super domestic and soft and fluffy thank you bff

Of course, my love! And hey, if Christmas in July can be a thing, so can Christmas in August. And oh boy, I made this one so sweet you might get cavities, so just, beware of that.

~~~~~~~~~~

You were excited, to put it lightly. This was the first Christmas you and you partner, Will, would be having while living together. You knew it was cheesy, but you wanted it to feel special.

You made reservations at this really fancy restaurant in the fanciest part of town. A bit over the top on your part, but you wanted to make this Christmas one to remember fondly.

You still haven't gotten a tree yet, so that was on your to-do list as well. You hoped there would be some nice trees to choose from.

Some people would've probably thought you were going mad with how much you wanted everything to be perfect, and yeah, you kind of were. But you completely ignored your logic and reasoning.

You bought a really nice outfit for yourself to wear to the restaurant, Christmassy but not too Christmassy, you weren't wearing reindeer antlers or red and green bells. It was simple, may or may not to somewhat match Will's outfit that he was going to wear.

With Will's hand in yours, you walked to your car and headed to the restaurant and got there a few minutes early, which was historical for you. You smiled along with Will as you entered the warm building, a pleasant contrast from the winter cold outside. "Hi! Reservation for L/n?" You asked bubbly, the evening already going so well that you were sure nothing could dampen your spirits.

It took a minute for the hostess to check, as the place was fairly busy due to the holidays. "Um, I'm sorry, I don't see your name here."

You immediately tensed, a half a second of anger bolting through you before you simply smiled understandingly. "Can you double check, please? I'm certain it's there, I called this in a week ago." You chuckled nervously.

"I'm sorry, but there is no reservation under L/n."

Your smiled dropped, your eye involuntarily twitching a couple times before your cleared your throat. "That...that can't be right."

Will turned to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. It happens. We can just go somewhere else." He smiled softly. You frowned in response, turning back to the hostess with pleading eyes, only to get a tight lipped smile as another apology.

You hung your head for a second, before walking out of the building at a quick pace, dead silent as you sat back in your car. Will cautiously got into the car, anxiously anticipating your eventual release of your frustration.

"What the fuck?!" You yelled into your steering wheel, causing Will to jump at the sudden outburst, even when he was expecting it. "I booked that table a week ago! Will, you were right next to me when I called the place!" You pleaded to no one, feeling defeated and pissed off. "Ugh..." You drawled out, collapsing against your seat.

Will couldn't help but chuckle at your cute pouting face, reaching over to gently massage your thigh. "It's okay, darling! This is just a minor setback. I'm sure there are other places we can go."

Yes, there were other places you could go, none of them fancy restaurants. You felt even more defeated when you had to settle for some fast food place. This is absolutely not how you wanted this evening to go.

You stared down at your burger and fries with distain. "This should be an overpriced steak at an overpriced fancy restaurant with live music, arrogant chefs and overly nice waiters who wear really fancy suits and ties." You mumbled.

Will raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound quite as nice as being in an almost empty fast food place with no one to bother us. And I quite like my food, I haven't found a single hair in it, so it's practically 5-star."

You rolled your eyes as you chuckled at his silliness. "At least we still get to pick out a Christmas tree, that should be fun."

"Hopefully we won't get hypothermia out in this weather. So, what type of tree are you thinking we get?"

You smiled dreamily. "I've always wanted a full, thick Frasier fir."

"Ambitious. A Frasier fir it is."

It might've been a bit too ambitious, because when you got to one of the only places in town that sold Christmas trees, there were no such trees in sight. They had all been sold out apparently. No worry, there would probably be one at another place. Nope, none there. So, you drove to the last place in town and lo and behold, no thick firs in sight.

"I think the world's against me."

Will trapped you in a hug from behind as you stood dumbfounded at the selection of trees available. Some of them could give Charlie Brown's Christmas tree a run for its money.

"What about that one?" Will pointed towards the corner of the small field you two stood in.

You laughed when you finally saw what he was looking at. The tree was a fir, but it looked so bare that you could call it a Charlie Brown tree. "You can't be serious."

"I'm deadly serious." He smirked, letting you go to jog eagerly to the pitiful looking tree. You chuckled sadly as he held onto it, the thing wasn't even as tall as Will, and even skinnier. "Ain't it a beauty?" He said in a slightly Australian accent, almost cringing at himself.

No.

"I guess."

The look of pure childlike joy on Will's face, you couldn't deny him that stupid tree. It was so small, you could probably fit it in your car, but you didn't want to clean up all the needles it would shed. It fastened to the roof of your car easily, too easily.

By the time you had set it up in your living room with Will, the tree kind of grew on you; it was like an ugly dog, so ugly it was cute, you supposed. Once it had all the decorations on, it didn't look too bad, but it still wasn't what you hoped for. It seemed this whole day you planned out to the T, nothing went the way you wanted it to, and that was a bit disheartening. What annoyed you, surprisingly, was Will's overwhelming optimism. Usually, it was endearing, but today was not one of those days where you needed optimism.

"You okay, Y/n?" Will asked intuitively.

"It's just...this day went to shit. How can you be so...perfect?"

Will blushed at your phrasing, but he knew what you meant. "I was annoyed with certain things today, the restaurant issues, for sure. But, it wasn't enough to put me in a bad mood all day. I chose to let it go so that we could have a good time, that's all."

You frowned, suddenly feeling really guilty. "I was in such a bad mood all day." You huffed, taking a seat on your couch. "I ruined this whole day..."

"No!" Will rushed over to you. "I didn't mean it like that, I-"

"I know, but you're right. I shouldn't have acted like such a child. I'm sorry."

Will smiled sadly. "Darling, you certainly did not ruin anything. None of this was your fault and you behaved how any normal person would. But even after all that happened, I still had an amazing time. We had a nice, quiet dinner. And we got our own little Charlie Brown tree." He chuckled. "Didn't you have a nice time too?"

You smiled sheepishly. "I did."

"We don't have to go to the fanciest restaurant or buy the nicest Christmas tree to have a nice time together. We could've stayed inside all day and I wouldn't have cared, just being here with you is what makes me the happiest."

You couldn't help but lean forwards to kiss him, so incredibly grateful that he was in your life. "Well, I'd say our first Christmas will be one to remember."

"Oh, it's not over yet." He added, causing you to furrow your brows in curiosity. He only winked as he walked to the other side of the room, fiddling with the record player.

"No..." You groaned playfully as Last Christmas by Wham! echoed through your apartment.

Will nodded, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. "Oh yeah, come on." He held out his hand to you, motioning for you to take it. You giggled as he started to lip sync the lyrics, shimmying his shoulders as he still waiting for you to take his hand.

"Oh my god." You blushed, finally taking his hand and him instantly pulling you up and grabbing you by the waist to pull you into a hug, violently swaying to the music. "Will!" You laughed uncontrollably.

"What? You don't like my dance moves?" He grinned.

"You're gonna break me if you keep doing that." You grinned back.

Will shook his head, toning down the fast swaying and settled into a relaxing sway, looking into your eyes fondly. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

You blushed, resting your head and hiding your face on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat much better music than any Christmas song you've ever listened to.

~~~~~~~~~~

bruh...this...was so fluffy I almost died. I hope me almost dying of fluffiness was worth it to you, @poulterfilms

#will poulter #will poulter imagine #will poulter x reader

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hizashis-lil-bunbun · 3 years

Text

Like a Moth to a Flame- Pt. 2

It’s been way too long since I’ve been motivated to work on this piece. But at last… at long last… part two is ready for takeoff! Once again I thank/blame @miscellaneous-bnha for inspiring this piece of monster fuckery (even though there’s no fuckery in this story… yet).

Enjoy!

Part 1

•••••

You become more distracted and nervous than usual over the next week or so. The slightest sound nearly makes you jump out of your skin and you keep making careless mistakes at work. Even your boss checks in with you to make sure you aren’t sick or losing your grip on reality. You assure him everything is fine and blame your poor performance and skittish nature on a made-up relative’s failing health. In truth, you can’t go for more than a few minutes without thinking about the blonde beast, his beautiful yet terrifying presence seeming to loom over you wherever you go. But you don’t dare tell any of your friends or coworkers about what you saw.

Who would believe you? At best, they’d think you were telling a bad joke and at worst they’d try to cart you off to the nearest mental hospital. So you keep your thoughts private, suffering in silence and staying up late to research who or what you saw that night.

And it's during one of your late-night Internet searches that you stumble across a forum dedicated to winged, humanoid creatures known as “mothmen.”

While the stories mainly originate from the Eastern United States, there have also been purported sightings as far as Japan. And though details may have varied slightly, the key features of the monsters always remain the same: massive height, glowing eyes, and of course the moth-like wings. You’d spent hours poring over your laptop that night, reading the information and accounts posted by other “mothman survivors.” Some stories were rather nice. One woman claimed the mothman she encountered was gentle, bordering on intelligent. She wrote about the gifts and trinkets it brought from time to time and it’s attempts at communication. But the majority were horrifying, with several people posting tales of the beasts attacking without provocation, leaving them injured and afraid. Someone even posted a picture of the deeply scarred claw marks on his chest and arms, claiming them to be the work of a particularly savage mothman. Regardless of their validity, one thing was for sure: the mothmen were unpredictable.

By the end of the second week, you’ve grown so desperate to stop the near constant waking nightmares that you decide to take a proactive approach to the matter. It’s a simple plan: set a trap, wait for the monster to reappear, and collect photo evidence. Even if it’s only to soothe your own self-doubts, you need to have definitive proof of its– of his existence.

On Friday night, you come home late from work, so late the sun has just barely set over the horizon. After a hot shower and a quick meal of instant noodles, you grab a shallow bowl from the cupboard and fill it with lukewarm water. One of the contributors to the website claimed that mothmen like sugar water, much like the insects they resemble. Another had proposed they might even enjoy the taste of cloth or fiber, but you weren’t about to sacrifice one of your favorite sweaters on a wild hunch.

You spoon in a generous amount of sugar into the bowl, mixing well to create a saccharine slurry before heading for the farthest living room window. Unlike the one you’d spotted the mothman from, this one is partially obscured by a rickety fire escape, the metal encrusted with decades worth of rust and snaking up the side of the building. Opening the window and leaning out of it, you place the dish of bait on one of the steps before hauling yourself back inside. You shut the window and settle yourself on the couch, a blanket and book in your lap and your phone’s camera at the ready. Hours tick by, the waning moon slowly creeping by in the night sky as you hold your silent vigil. As you wait in suffocating silence, you start to feel foolish and begin to think your “mothman” might have been nothing more than a product of an overactive imagination and one too many late nights in the office. Even with all your research, all you had to go by was a few wild stories posted by Internet strangers and a missing frying pan. You finally nod off around two in the morning, unable to keep your heavy eyelids open.

•••

WHAM!

A noise from outside jolts you awake from your spot on the couch, followed by the sound of creaking, groaning metal. The whole apartment seems to shake and an unearthly screech accompanies the final creak as you hear the fire escape give way before clattering into the alleyway. Other tenants on all floors start opening their windows and doors, shouting and swearing about the noise and the landlord “not keeping this shithole up to code.” It’s utter chaos for a few minutes and then silence falls once more, your neighbors still grumbling as they retreat back into their homes. You scramble off the couch and to the window, gazing into the alley for any sign of life. The moon isn’t as bright as last time, but you can just barely make out the mangled remains of the fire escape and the faintest glimpse of gold. Throwing caution to the wind, you grab a well-worn hoodie, your phone, and the kitchen knife. You make your way down the three flights of stairs to the alley door, opening it cautiously should you encounter an angry cryptid on the other side. But there’s no one there, so you take a deep breath and head out into the apocalyptic looking alley. Metal is strewn everywhere, with part of the railing still clinging to the side of the building like a deranged centipede. Snapped metal bars jut out at odd angles, creating a maze of twisted, rusty spikes and sharp edges. You slowly pick your way over and around the wreckage, using your phone’s flashlight as a guide so you don’t end up tripping and accidentally impaling yourself.

“Hello?” You call into the darkness, “Mothman? A-are you there?”

Your call is rewarded with a shuddering groan and the sounds of scraping metal. You shine your light on the biggest tangle of steel, watching as something large moves underneath it. The pile of metal shifts upwards and falls away, while a large, dark figure rises from the shadows. They’re silhouetted against the dim moonlight but just as intimidating as before, hunching over as the appendages on their back shake and rustle. You turn the flashlight on and find yourself looking into a familiar pair of glassy, blue eyes. The mothman stares back at you, folding his wings against his back and cocking his handsome head from side to side.

“You- you’re real.” You breathe, feeling your heart jump into your throat as you surreptitiously pull up your phone’s camera. The monster chitters in response as he sniffs at the air, stepping over a piece of rusted debris to get closer to you. You quickly snap and picture... and the alley is suddenly lit up with blinding light.

You’d forgotten to turn off the flash!

The mothman blinks in response and lets out a groan, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. You drop your phone and crouch down, knife forgotten as you cover your head with your hands and prepare for him to lash out. But no claws come to tear at your flesh nor are there any angry roars or shrieks. Instead the beast starts to emit low, rumbling noise, like a growl but far less sinister. You hear metal being dragged across the concrete followed by the sound of heavy footfalls. You cautiously open one eye to see a pair of clawed feet and muscular calves, only to squeak in alarm when his face abruptly appears in your field of vision. You fall backwards in surprise, landing heavily on your rump while the mothman squats mere inches from you. His eyes are fixed on the ground, gently running his nails over the now cracked screen of your upturned phone. Even in the dim lighting you can see his curious, wide-eyed expression and it suddenly dawns on you what that noise he’s making is: he’s purring. Or near enough to it.

“W-What do you want?”

The monster looks up when you speak, cocking his head slightly before turning back to paw at the phone once more. He’s more insistent this time, his swipes becoming bolder as the phone scratches across the concrete. He gives the device a few well-placed taps before making eye contact once more, his brow furrowed as he briefly switches from purring to a chittering cry. With a gulp, you gingerly set down the blade, reach across your body and flip the phone over, the still lit flashlight illuminating the alley once more. The beast’s eye’s blow even wider, enchanted by the light shining upwards into the starry sky. You sit in silence for a few seconds, the only sounds are your heavy breathing and the guttural purrs coming from the mesmerized mothman. As your heart rate slows, you begin to notice more intimate details about the creature before you.

For one, his wings are covered in the same fur that rings his neck and, though it’s shorter and more fine, they look just as soft.

Second, he’s incredibly warm. A steady heat rolls off his body in waves that seem a stark contrast to what one might expect from a bug-centric cryptid.

But most noticeable of all is his smell.

It’s not a bad smell by any means; in fact, it’s downright pleasant. The odor is a cross between lemonade and petrichor, a soothing blend of sweet citrus and earthy musk. You find yourself unconsciously breathing more through your nose, feeling lightheaded as his scent floods your senses and making you relax into the cold pavement. As your eyes lazily drift over his naked form you see he’s holding something in his other hand, protectively clutching it against his chest. You tilt your head to get a better view, the subtle movement getting the monster’s attention and causing him to drag his eyes away from the light and focus on you again.

“What’s that?” You ask softly, almost dreamily, and point to his chest. The mothman’s eyes follow your finger down to his right hand, pulling it away to reveal your (still remarkably intact) bowl. It’s largely empty of its contents, but some of the sugar water has stuck to his fur and cooled into sweet, matted clumps. He squeaks at the sight of it, almost like he’d forgotten about the bait and dives into it to eagerly lap at the ceramic bottom. When it fails to yield anything substantial he huffs and turns his attention to his dirtied mane. He dips his head as a long, pink tongue slithers out of his mouth and curls around the largest tangle, laving over the sugar-crusted mat before quickly retreating. He chitters in satisfaction at the taste, barely glancing up at you before diving back down for more.

“So you do like sugar.” You mutter under your breath, a small chuckle bubbling up in your chest on the exhale. The mothman pays you no mind, too engrossed in his work to notice how you shift your body into a more comfortable sitting position to watch. After a few minutes, the creature stops licking at himself and looks back up at you, eyes still wide and expression almost curious as he cocks his head to the side once more. Tentatively shifting his weight forward, he extends the empty bowl to you.

“I don’t have any more.” You whisper softly, confused yet intrigued by his gentle actions. The mothman grunts and takes another shuffling step, hand still outstretched and his brow softly furrowing. He seems insistent, almost annoyed that you won’t accept his generous offer. Not wanting to anger him, you gingerly extend your own right hand, pinching the rim of the bowl between thumb and forefinger before carefully pulling it from his grip. Holding the bowl against your own chest, you take a stab at what he wants from you and raise the ceramic dish to your lips to give a noisy, pretend slurp. You feel like an adult humoring a child in a game of “tea party,” offering him a cheesy smile and an “mmm” of satisfaction as you pull the empty bowl away from your face. The creature’s own face splits in a too-wide grin, wings flapping excitedly and chittering happily at your display. A quiet gasp is ripped from you throat as you finally get a good look at his teeth.

They’re practically perfect; two rows of pearly white, blunted incisors frames by sharpened, too-long canines on either end. And the smile he’s giving you is nothing short of exuberant, beaming like a drop of sunshine made incarnate. You find yourself returning his smile with a genuine one of your own, amazingly unafraid in the face of this otherwise inhuman beast. But your relief is short-lived as the monster suddenly shifts onto his knees and bounds towards you on all fours.

“Woah, woah, woah!” You squeak, scrabbling backwards and nearly skewering yourself on a jagged piece of wreckage in an attempt to get away. “Take it easy! Down, boy!”

The mothman stops with his face mere inches from yours, clawed hands planted on either side of your hips and still grinning from ear to ear. Carefully, he lowers his golden head to rest against your left shoulder, nuzzling into the sensitive flesh and purring softly in your ear. It’s an act of unbelievable tenderness, of affection, and it stirs something deep within your jackhammering heart. Moving slowly so as to not startle him, you relinquish your hold on the empty bowl and raise your right hand to his head, gently placing it against his temple. At the feeling of your fingers in his hair, the creature freezes for a second and you suck in a quick breath, prepared to pay the price for your boldness. But simply leans further into your touch, closing his eyes contentedly and pushing against your palm like an obedient pet as his purring reaches a fever pitch.

“Good… good boy.” You exhale slowly, thumb brushing across the apple of his surprisingly warm cheek. “That’s a good boy.”

You stay locked together for what feels like ages, the only sounds your own heavy breathing and the monster’s soft purrs of pleasure as you stroke him. Finally you finds your voice again and you softly stammer out, “Do you– do you have a name?”

His eyes open slightly at your question, briefly raising his head with a small chirp. Removing your hand from his face, you splay your palm across your chest and give it two quick pats.

“Y/N.” You say slowly, enunciating each syllable, “I’m Y/N.”

The creature cocks his head for a second and pulls away from you to get into a kneeling position. You pat your chest and repeat yourself once more. The mothman then takes one of his own massive paws and places it on his own chest, mirroring your movements.

“M-Mir…” He chokes out, voice raspy but surprisingly human, like he hasn’t used it in a long time. “Mir… io. Mirio.”

“Mirio?”

Hearing his name fall from your lips elicits another bright smile from the mothman, wings giving a single flap as he curls his hand into a fist atop his sternum.

“Mirio!” He says more boldly, giving his chest two hearty thumps for emphasis.

“Mirio.” You repeat softly, “That’s a nice name.”

His eyes soften at your words, almost as if he understood the compliment. He opens his mouth once more, but before he can speak, a new voice cuts through the night air.

“Hey! What’s going on over there?”

You whip your head towards the source of the noise, moments before you feel a rush of cold air accompanied by a sharp hiss. Someone is picking their way through the wreckage to your location, their own flashlight sweeping over the heaps of rusted metal until it lands on your startled face. Squinting into the light, you can barely make out the silhouette of a man and you feel a bolt of panic shoot through you. You turn back to face Mirio only to find him gone.

“Mirio?” You speak into the darkness, as if uttering the word might make him reappear. But there’s only empty space and silence, punctuated by the heavy footfalls of the stranger coming ever closer to you. It’s only when he’s within a few feet that you can make out the telltale flash of gold on his chest: an officer’s badge.

“Are you alright?” The man asks of you, still shining the flashlight directly into your face. “Are you hurt?”

“Huh? Oh! Yes. I’m fine, sir.”

“Are you sure?” The officer asks quizzically, extending a hand for you to take. You graciously accept his offer, retrieving the forgotten bowl and phone from the concrete with your free hand before hauling yourself back onto your feet.

“Y-yes I’m sure.” You stammer out, “I just, uh… I heard a noise outside my apartment and came to investigate.”

“Awfully late to be investigating strange noises in an alley.” He says incredulously, cocking one eyebrow and shining his light over the ruined fire escape at his feet for emphasis. “Especially in this part of town.”

His light catches on something glinting at your feet and your eyes follow it to land on the forgotten kitchen knife on the ground. His own eyes snap back to you and narrow suspiciously, free hand slowly moving towards the holster resting against his hip.

“Are you alone out here?”

“Yes, sir!” You squeak back automatically, “I swear it’s just me. I live in this apartment complex.”

You gesture to the brick-fronted side of the building to your right as proof of your innocence, praying to all the powers that be that he buys your story. The officer narrows his eyes at you, muttering a quiet, “Huh. Could’ve sworn I saw someone…” before clearing his throat and straightening his posture.

“Well in any case, you should probably head inside now, miss. There have been reports of criminal activity in the area as of late and I wouldn’t want you getting hurt. What with all this rusty metal lying around.”

“Yeah, no use getting a tetanus shot over nothing!” You say jokingly, giving a nervous chuckle as the officer nods solemnly. You don’t dare go to pick up the knife, deciding it’s better to lose another kitchen utensil than land yourself in any more hot water. With a few more parting words, and a declined offer to let him walk you back home, you quickly skirt around the remains of the fire escape and into the safety of the stairwell door. Your mind and heart are racing as you plod up the stairs to the third floor, buzzing with questions without answers as you finally enter and lock the door to your one-bedroom sanctuary. Exhaling a breath you don’t know you were holding, you walk silent over to the living room windows and cast a final glance into the alleyway below. You can see the officer’s flashlight bobbing along as he makes his way around the scattered remains of the fire escape, only to switch off once he reaches the end of the alleyway and resumes his patrol of the neighborhood. But you still wait by the window for a few more minutes, wondering (and perhaps hoping) if you’d catch a final glimpse of flaxen hair or hear the steady beat of wings.

Silence reigns above all, the soft glow of the moon your only companion now.

With a heavy sigh, you peel your eyes away from the wreckage and plod off to your bedroom, stripping off your hoodie and sweatpants as you go. Curling up under the covers, you grab the pillow closest to you and hug it to your chest. If you close your eyes, you can almost believe you can still feel the warmth of his face on your neck, or smell the aroma of him lingering on your skin.

“I hope you’re alright… Mirio.”

#bnha mothman au #mothmanmirio #mothrio #togata mirio x reader #mirio x reader #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #like a moth to a flame

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literate-lamb · 3 years

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Defying Fate | one

Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader, Steve Rogers/Fem!Reader

Ever since young, children had always been fed with the fantasy that they were destined for one person, and one person only. The fantasy that the mark they were born with would lead them to prince charming, or a fair maiden, ending with a happily ever after.

You were once that child. Unfortunately, you never had a soulmark.

This is a love story told through the lens of three different individuals.

► warnings(!): soulmate AU (if that’s not your thing), love-triangle but it’s actually a line, unrequited love, light angst, platonic soulmates

a/n: This is something I’ve always wanted to write for so long. It was spontaneous, I have the basics set but no rigid frame until the end. This will be short. Taglist for this is open!

These were known as “soulmarks” to the people, and they’ve been in existence since the start of time. Since Adam and Eve came to creation. Since Marc and Cleo flaunted their affair. Since Johnny laid eyes on June.

They were unique to each couple; always an image or scribblings etched on the surface of either arm, waiting to be discovered by the other half.

Through the ages, these soulmarks were responsible for the cause of beneficial unions and, accountable for the start of wars. Legend say it wasn’t Helen’s beauty that caused the loss of Troy.

Children would daydream, imagining the fated day they would meet their “soulmate”. Teens would discuss with friends about their soulmarks, always on the lookout for a matching half. And they were right to do so, as people started meeting their other half as soon as they hit puberty.

You were once that child, but you were never that teenager. For you never had a soulmark.

—

Being bare, or being a “blank” as they called it, wasn’t filled with a lot of happy memories. You remembered crying at the age of six after a group of girls made fun of you for not having a soulmark. You cried your way home, remembering the hold your mother had you in that day as she consoled you.

See, your parents were soulmates. They had the kind of love that you’ve always dreamed of having, and everyone else envied. Theirs was a love so eternal, that Cupid would weep.

You longed for a love like theirs, but no matter how much you wished, you knew it was a wish for the impossible.

A “blank” wasn’t a common occurrence in your world, but they were never unheard of. It was the cause of torment you endured over the years. The stares, the whispers, the snickers behind lockers. You’ve learned to tune it out, yet it didn’t make it any less hurtful.

People have no idea why we have soulmarks the way we do. For centuries, scientists and philosophers had tried to theorize the existence of soulmarks. Yet, we never made it any closer to the truth.

A “blank” could mean, and be anything. It could mean that in a part of the universe, you were always destined for someone, but their time was up before you could ever meet. Or perhaps, they were soulmates with someone else, before time would take that away, giving rise to a newer fresh soulmark. Or perhaps, —and this was painful to admit— you were never destined to be with anyone.

James Buchanan Barnes

James “Bucky” Barnes had a good life, or what he considered a good life.

Hailing from Brooklyn, he was the epitome of a good son and brother. Protective of his sister since he first laid eyes on her. He had a best friend, (even though with how sickly he was) who always had his back. He had everything he wanted, and yet not everything was his.

You see, Bucky Barnes was the possessor of a soulmark. A mark that looped on his arms, staining inky black against the tan of his skin. A mark that he was proud to have, for it meant he was destined to meet “the one”. A mark that, unfortunately, to the dismay of many, broke hearts.

He was what the girls would call a “charmer” and what the boys would call a “player”. You would have thought that the idea of bearing a soulmark would make a person wait for “the one”. Yet, this never stopped Bucky from what he believed is living his best life.

Women loved him, and he loved women. As simple as that.

He imagined the moment he has met his “destined”, everything else will fall into place and no other person will matter.

—

George and Winnifred Barnes, in Bucky’s eyes, were the picture perfect example of soulmates. Since a young age, he always admired the relationship that his parents had.

They complemented each other. In a lot of ways that Bucky hoped he and his soulmate would have.

His mother was the extrovert, loud and full of fire. In which if you stoked it, you could burn. But never towards his father. His father was the mediator. Calm and collected, he could tame even the most raging of flames.

He and his younger sister, Rebecca, were always up to mischief growing up. Whenever something was broken or the sound of a crash rang, they always ended up on the end of their mother’s scolding. But his father always managed to calm her down, with his soothing ways.

Whenever his father was down, his mother would know what to do or what words to say. He wouldn’t stew for long, he would bounce right back after. It was the same for his mother, vice versa.

They were made for each other.

But why were they quarrelling in the living room when he got home for the Summer? Why were words like “divorce” and “other woman” thrown into the air? Why was his father shouting, stoking the burning rage of his mother?

Bucky felt his world shatter.

Steven Grant Rogers

Steven Grant Rogers was born a sickly child.

When he was brought into the world, the doctors assumed he wouldn’t make it. But his parents never stopped believing. With their love and effort, he made it through, and would continue to do so throughout adulthood.

Steve Rogers was a blank. Always has been since birth, but maybe not for the rest of his life. It didn’t bother him. He believed he was in-charge of his own happiness.

Unlike Bucky, Steve didn’t have the best prospects with girls. Being 5’3 and 95 pounds back in high school didn’t help, especially with Bucky Barnes as a best friend.

He remembered his prom all too well; ditched by his date at the end of the night. He didn’t take it hard, knowing it was just an arrangement. An arrangement for the both of them to not appear lonely on a night that some deemed “the best night of their lives”.

Nevertheless, prom night did become a memorable memory. He and Bucky ended up driving all night, blasting Wham!’s Last Christmas in the middle of April, and watching the sunrise with a view of the Brooklyn bridge.

Bucky didn’t leave his side all night, and for the years after.

He was eternally grateful.

—

Being a blank never bothered Steven Rogers. His peers used to tease and bully him for it, but he never cared. He believed happiness wasn’t restricted to the possession of soulmarks.

However, he couldn’t deny the pang he sometimes felt when he witnessed the meeting of soulmates while passing through life. It had become a weekly occurrence; strangers realizing they’re soulmates, and people cheering them on in the background. Just last week, a couple met when they were both rushing to a lecture. To say the hall was noisy was an understatement.

Sometimes he wished people would look past soulmarks. Past his height that only gained a few inches over the years. Past his blank slate that they deemed a defect.

Thinking of his parents, Steve Rogers had always thought they were soulmates from the start. Their marks fit each other’s, like pieces to a puzzle. Imagine his surprise when that wasn’t the case.

Sarah was born a blank. Like everyone else with the same “fate”, she always thought having a soulmate wasn’t a part of her life's plans. Imagine her surprise when a mark —five small stars scattered on her inner wrist— appeared one day.

A few months passed before she would meet Joseph Rogers during one of his physiotherapy appointments. She was the nurse that wheeled him in.

Steve’s father was born with a soulmark. He lived the first 30 years with one, met his other half, and got married.

It wasn’t until one day, he was involved in an accident. It took the life of his soulmate, leaving Joseph blank. Supposedly.

What baffled him was the appearance of a soulmark immediately after the accident. A new, fresh mark. Five stars scattered across his bicep. On the arm that was affected by the accident. The same arm he was getting treatment for.

As for his old soulmark, it blurred, then faded, before disappearing completely. No trace or evidence of its existence was left.

For a long time, Joseph saw the mark as a form of mocking. From God or another higher being, he will never know. After ruminating for a long time, at the same time getting to know Sarah from his numerous hospital visits, he finally relented and moved on. And the rest was history.

His parents’ experience showed that humans weren’t getting any closer to understanding the soulmark phenomenon. When we think we’ve got it, something new would pop-up, throwing us off course for another millennia.

And that kept Steve Rogers a hopeful man.

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #soulmate AU #angst

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killalluchihas · 3 years

Text

good vibes/bad juju - 14

While on a mission in overseas, Gojo gets K-O'd by an unknown person. Within a week, every sorcerer in Japan has heard about it. (A JJK OC story - Rated M)

[Chapter One] [Previous Chapter][Next Chapter]

–/–/–/–

chapter fourteen: sucio Yoshi makes some mistakes CW: violence, gore, naoya zenin, hand-wavy sorcery powers. don't ask me to explain yoshi's technique again lol

Yoshi steps beyond the veil and directly into a nightmare. She doesn’t quite know the criteria for labeling curses as second-grade, first-grade, or anything higher, but seeing that she just walked into a fucking domain, her money was on a S-class or Super-charged curse. Or whatever they called it.

Sorcerers sure loved to rank their stuff. Yoshi never understood the insistence on quantifying curses and power levels.

How can you put a number on strength? Who gets to judge it?

Power, Yoshi thinks irritably, ducking beneath a stray tentacle-like arm, is subjective.

The curse isn’t slow, but it misses her again and again. The air feels different under the veil, but it seems to be an unfinished domain. The curse is too new, too thoughtless to concentrate on an actual technique. She’s lost track of Naoya, which is bad, but there’s a whole slew of crab-like offspring from the squid-like mother curse that he’s probably busy with—

WHAM

Her vision goes dark for half a second, pain exploding up her back as she slams into something. The bat slips out of her grasp. It wasn’t the squid-thing that attacked her—she’s been deflecting its attacks pretty handily with Nudge.

That’s on me, Yoshi thinks next. I took my eyes off him.

She doesn’t wait for her eyes to refocus, or for Naoya to take another swing—she goes to her wrist and draws up the cursed energy embedded in her bracelet to teleport, dropping to the ground twenty feet away from him.

One breath. Two. that's all she gets before Naoya is back in her face—completely ignoring the curse to attack her.

He’s much faster than he was on the rooftop. Too fast for Yoshi’s eyes to perceive him.

And yet…

“Why—can’t I—hit you?” He rages, narrowly missing every punch and every kick. It won’t take him long to understand what Nudge does, but Yoshi isn’t concerned.

Nudge is a simple power. When she's applying her technique, she alters something's position in space. If it’s in motion, that adjusts its trajectory. The swing of a bat, the arc of a ball.

But ‘something’ can be anything. A baseball, a paperclip, a man too fast to see. He struck Yoshi first—it takes less concentration to work with things she’s already seen or felt. And when Yoshi nudges something, she isn’t applying an exterior force onto the object. It can’t be felt, it can’t be resisted. It’s an instant shift in space. It doesn’t matter that Naoya, using Projection, seems to flicker, skipping the gaps between milliseconds like he exists outside of time. Yoshi knows his fist is coming, and so she nudges him out of the way.

There should be a drawback to Nudge, because at the basis of every technique there must be a drawback.

Toying with the physics of space and distance should have a huge backlash, and it should require massive bursts of cursed energy to alter even a single, stationary object. It does use up a lot of power. But it’s an instance too fast for humans, for almost anyone or anything, to sense or react to. The precision of Yoshi’s ability was something no documented sorcerer had come across before.

Gojo was the only one capable of seeing it, with the Six Eyes.

But Gojo hadn’t taken off his blindfold to watch Yoshi spar with Megumi, or when she’d teleported with him to Tokyo. If he’d used the full capacity of Six Eyes on her, he would have noticed.

Lucky, lucky, lucky.

Gojo was aware that Yoshi was strong. But if he’d understood just how massive Yoshi’s reserve of cursed energy was, and the improbable control she held over it, she would have had a lot more questions to answer on that first day.

Naoya’s fist crashes through a thick tree instead of Yoshi’s face, and he screams in outrage, stopping for just a moment. The curse darts towards him, and he carelessly freezes it in place before shattering through it. It doesn’t destroy the curse, but it sure does confuse Yoshi.

“What the fuck was that?” Yoshi blurts out, grudgingly curious. “That’s what Projection does?”

That’s kind of useful.

“Fight BACK!” Naoya commands, snarling like a dog as he lunges towards her again.

But the curse makes a gurgling, ominous noise—and then Yoshi and Naoya stagger as a head-splitting, incomprehensible noise floods the murky forest. Yoshi clamps her hands over her ears, even though it does nothing. She can’t hear a thing. Can’t think.

She feels it when Naoya sinks a dagger into her belly and yanks it upward.

Blindly, she grabs for his wrist to stop him from moving it further. The curse is still releasing its sound attack in waves. She hears something like a clap of thunder and her eardrums rupture. Naoya’s grip loosens—he’s suffering from vertigo, not that Yoshi knows it, but she takes advantage all the same to throw herself onto him—

Naoya can’t hear her, though her lips are at his ear—he can feel her, when her teeth clamp around his earlobe and tear.

Yoshi shoves him off, keeping a hand on the dagger in her abdomen. She’d cuss him out for stabbing her, but her mouth is occupied. Salty, coppery, coating her tongue. The flesh and metal is pushed between her teeth and cheek so she can breathe. She doesn’t think about it. She is not thinking about it. The curse’s sonic attack doubles in strength, and they both lose their balance again. A tentacle dives towards Naoya, and he rolls out of its path.

The crab-things swarm Yoshi, and she’s forced to summon another bat. The dagger pulls at her with every breath, every flex of muscle. She wants to keep a hand on it, she should hold it still, because at this rate she’ll just bleed out, but the damn curse, it’s stopped warbling and the next time it blasts them with sound waves, it might just kill them both.

Naoya seems to understand that part, because he targets the main squid-like body instead of Yoshi.

She swings her bat, clearing enough of the crab-things to give her room to move. Naoya continues to attack the squid, flickering through his movements in a way Yoshi can’t understand. She pulls out a ball, facing the cursed spirit. Instead of winding up for a pitch, she tosses it directly up.

The dagger carves further into her belly the more she moves. The flesh in her mouth oozes, metallic and slippery on her teeth. Yoshi grabs her bat with both hands and swings.

CRRAACK

The squid erupts when it’s struck, bursting into tendrils of black energy and squealing horribly as it dissolves.

–/–/–/–

Naoya’s still halfway through a punch when it disperses, light-headed from its sound attack but not so out of it that he doesn’t realize how wrong, how quickly it seemed to die. But the smaller offshoots of the curse vanish with it, and the incomplete domain fades as well, clearing the forest air of the murky, swamp-like fog.

That wasn’t the main curse, is Naoya’s immediate assumption. Some high grade curses were like that, splitting their energy to attack in multiple forms.

Yet the forest is silent. The veil is in place, still concealing him and the girl from the wider world, but there should be more.

There must be more. Because, if not...

Naoya swings his gaze around, wild-eyed, to look at the young, injured, baseborn bitch leaning against some rocks.

She exorcised it with one hit.

His ear throbs, and Naoya reaches up to feel the damage. His left earlobe is shredded, but the bleeding has slowed. It’s nothing fatal. It’ll hardly slow him down. But ears don’t grow back. It’s visible and permanent.

His blood is smeared over her face. Her blood, brighter and fresher, continues to dribble from the blade he stuck in her. She looks like death.

Even before she meets his gaze, though, Naoya knows this won’t kill her.

His ear drums were ruptured by the curse, and there’s a distinct ringing that will take time to fade. So he can’t hear her, but reads her red, dripping lips instead.

Sucio.

He doesn’t know what that means. Naoya starts towards her again, but before he can reach her, she vanishes.

–/–/–/–

Nanami Kento was minding his own business, shuffling through a new case file in Shoko’s office when a bloodied body crashed on Shoko’s desk out of thin air.

Shoko fumbles with her mug, spilling hot coffee all over the linoleum.

“Yoshi?!” she exclaims, and Nanami relaxes his grip on his cleaver. Apparently Shoko knows this person.

Instead of answering, the woman reaches up to her mouth—which is covered in blood—and gags up a glob of flesh.

“Asqueroso,” the woman whines, spitting up more drool and blood as she slides off the desk. She looks around the same age as Ino Takuma, dressed in dark pants and a baggy windbreaker, darkened further by her own blood. “Shoko, toma esto.” And then she pours out the rest of Shoko’s coffee and drops the glob of flesh from her mouth into the mug. "Sucio," she gripes.

“What?” Shoko says, suddenly wide awake. “What is this? What happened?”

“No puedo oir,” Yoshi says loudly, pointing to her bleeding ears first, and then to the dagger sticking out of her stomach. She begins to tilt sideways. “Eardrums burst,” she says thickly. “Got...cut.”

“You got stabbed,” Shoko corrects her, setting the mug aside to grab Yoshi’s arm. “Nanami, help me get her to a table.”

“Who is this?” Nanami asks, ushering Shoko away and reaching under the woman to lift her. Nanami scans over her, but doesn’t find the golden buttons of Jujutsu Tech anywhere on her.

“Who’re you?” Yoshi jerks away from him, pressing one hand on her stomach and using the other one to push at Nanami’s shoulder. She gives Nanami a once-over, skeptical. Then she slurs, in English this time, “Don’t touch me, dude.”

“This is the teacher Gojo hired,” Shoko pushes her back towards Nanami, now holding a towel and pressing it over her belly. “Yoshi, he's a friend. Let Nanami help.”

Yoshi takes the towel from Shoko, only to drag it over her face and scrub at the dried blood on her mouth. She continues to shove Nanami away, and he relents, raising his hands to show he means no harm. He’s pretty sure she can’t hear what Shoko is saying, and the more she moves, the worse the wound will get—

“Stop, stop, stop!” Shoko shrieks, and Nanami quickly grabs Yoshi’s wrist when she starts tugging at the knife. “You’ll bleed out, you idiot!”

“Take—it—out,” Yoshi hisses through her teeth, either unable to hear Shoko or simply not caring. “Now. Out,” she says, louder and louder. “N-now. Hear me? The mug. Dagger o-out.”

Shoko makes a big X with her arms, facing Yoshi directly and clearly. “Not yet, you have to wait!”

Nanami pries Yoshi’s hands away from the dagger, shaking his head. She scowls at him, like his very existence offends her, but she’s lost too much blood to keep protesting. “I am helping you,” he says, making sure to enunciate every syllable when her eyes are on him.

If anything, she looks even madder now. But she stops moving, and Nanami hunches down to lift her up.

“Th-the mug,” Yoshi says, lolling back against Nanami. She’s lucky that Nanami and Shoko are here. Shoko alone couldn’t carry Yoshi to the infirmary while she was resisting. And if Nanami were alone with her, he would probably kick her off campus.

“Yeah, yeah, I have the stupid mug!” Shoko rolls her eyes, bringing it over as Nanami puts the woman on the nearest infirmary bed. Yoshi tries to sit up so that Shoko can wrap up her torso and keep pressure on the wound, but can't hold herself up.

"Nanami," Shoko barks at him, and Nanami presses against the woman's back, keeping her in place until Shoko tells him he can let go. Yoshi lays down reluctantly, muttering venomously.

"Is she speaking English?" Shoko asks over Yoshi's head. "I'm not fluent."

"She's just cursing a lot." Nanami shrugs.

“Fix my ears,” Yoshi interrupts. She stares down the physician, “I'll do the rest.”

“Can you heal yourself?” Nanami asks dubiously.

Yoshi squints at him suspiciously. “Ears,” she says again.

Shoko exhales, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Zenin stabbed me,” Yoshi adds conversationally, blinking at the ceiling. “Pinche cabrón...”

Nanami makes a small noise of surprise at this, thinking she means Zenin Maki, but Shoko just purses her lips as she brings a chair over to Yoshi’s head. “She was on a mission with Naoya,” she tells Nanami, drawing up her cursed energy and funneling it towards Yoshi’s ears. “A first-grade curse in Nagano. Apparently they have a history.”

“How did she appear in the office like that?” Nanami asks. “The bracelet on your desk?”

“Oh, you noticed that?” Shoko nods absently, eyes on Yoshi. “She uses talismans to teleport. Fushiguro showed up this morning and asked to leave one here. It must be an anchor, so she can find the school despite the barrier.”

Nanami pulls off his jacket, wondering if the bloodstains will come out. Dry cleaning was an option, but if he does that too often, it’ll alarm civilians. He puts his jacket aside and scrubs his hands at the sink as he lets Shoko work. He could leave, but he doesn't really know this woman, and just because Gojo hired her didn't mean they should trust her alone with one of their most valuable healers.

“Those must be some powerful talismans,” he says quietly, and this time when Nanami looks over at them, Yoshi blinks and looks directly at him. “Can you hear me now, Yoshi-san?”

“Yes,” she says sluggishly. “Y'wanna see talismans.” Shoko pulls away, rolling her chair closer to Yoshi’s middle.

“Did you know Naoya would attack you?” Nanami wonders.

“Kind of,” Yoshi blinks a few times. She stretches out her hand just enough to hook a finger around the mug Shoko brought over. Then Yoshi rolls onto her side—Shoko snaps at her again to stop moving—and pushes herself off the table again, collapsing onto her knees and groaning in pain.

“Are you trying to die?!” Shoko cries, rushing around the table. “What are you doing, Yoshi?”

“Shoko,” Nanami says suddenly, observing Yoshi closely. “Leave her.”

“What?” Shoko stares at Nanami, bewildered. “She’s bleeding out, she’s not thinking straight—no!” she gasps when Yoshi yanks the dagger completely out of her stomach. The wound begins to weep anew, streaming down her folded legs and onto the floor.

“...Move… back,” Yoshi chokes on the words, tears welling in her eyes. Her hands are surprisingly steady as she tips out the contents of the mug. “Heal me after this, Shoko.”

“I-I’ll try. I’m not a miracle worker. But what are you doing?"

Yoshi lifts her head, finding Shoko’s eyes. “Promise me to try.”

“...Sure. Only if you clean up all this blood later, too,” Shoko grumbles, but her eyes are wide with worry as she shuffles away. Nanami isn’t sure how Yoshi is still conscious, let alone talking so clearly.

Yoshi rasps out something like a laugh. “I promise,” she says.

Then, she dips her fingers into her own spilt blood, and begins to write sutras on the tiles.

She's making a new talisman.

—/—/—/—

[Previous Chapter][Next Chapter]

A/N: Spanish translations! Sucio - Nasty Asqueroso - Disgusting toma esto - take this No puedo oir - I can't hear Pinche cabrón - Fucking bastard

#good vibes/bad juju #jjk #jjk fanfiction #jjk ocs #jjk manga #jjk spoilers #jjk fanfic #jjk manga spoilers #jujutsu kaisen manga #jujutsu kaisen oc #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #naoya zenin #nanami kento #shoko ieiri

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missjosie27 · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas, My Love

Hey, everyone! It’s that time of year again and here is my gift that I wish to bestow. Merry Christmas, @lins-hogwarts-mystery I hope I did your MC justice.

A big thank you to @hphmsecretsanta2020 for organizing this again. I will always participate! Without further ado!

Clara Lin loved snow. The white powder of frozen ice crystals always held a special place in her heart since she was little playing in the fields of Oxford. At Hogwarts, Christmas time became that much more special. Even with the underlying horror cursed vaults, there was always time to celebrate the holidays in a merry fashion. This year in particular she and her friends agreed to stay behind and spend time together over the course of winter break.

And what better way to celebrate that than a snowball fight on Christmas Eve?

“I got you! HAHA-” WHAM!

Charlie Weasley’s momentary triumph was silenced by Tulip’s double decker snowball smashing him in the side of the face, causing everyone else to laugh.

Staying behind were also Rowan, Penny, Barnaby, and Tonks who were all participating in the battle of winter circa 1989. Even Merula had skipped out on going home and though she and Clara would never be best friends, the two were amicable enough to have a snowball fight without getting too intense...mostly. They were on different teams after all.

The contest played out within the training grounds, so there wasn’t much cover to be had as far as trees or underbrush but then again magic could make up for lack of natural cover. On one side was something akin to a medieval castle, complete with five foot high walls, a drawbridge, and a flag. The other was a giant circular wall, good for combating attacks from all sides but vulnerable to a possible sir attack. In any case, standing up even for the slightest moment was unwise as Charlie found out first hand.

“She’s got good aim,” he muttered rubbing his cheek while dodging another projectile.

Clara couldn’t help but giggle. Even the person with the best reflexes amongst their Gryffindor brethren could be sniped by the cleverest Ravenclaw.

“Bombs away!” Penny yelled out hucking up a snowball into the cloudy winds of nowhere.

“Best to aim a bit first,” Rowan chided kindly as she adjusted her glasses while gathering more snow in her vicinity for the purpose of more ammunition.

“Merula’s team is eating our lunch,” Charlie lamented. “We need a new strategy.”

“Ooo!! I can help!” squealed out the tiny voice of Clara’s little sister, Emily, otherwise known as ‘Em’. She was five years younger but often associated herself with her big sister’s friends and refused to not be included in the festivities. A first year Hufflepuff, she was eager to help but lacked imagination.

“Keep firing as many snowballs as you can,” Rowan assured her again in an understanding tone that placated the little girl. “I think I have an idea.”

The teams were equally divided- Clara, Charlie, Penny, and Rowan on side while Merula, Tulip, Tonks, and Barnaby were on the other. Em was considered young enough (and insignificant enough to the female Slytherin) that her presence was not decisive enough to affect the outcome. But any competition featuring Merula Snyde guaranteed to be intense. After all a rivalry did not subside just because the two girls had formally agreed to work together in finding the cursed vaults.

“What would that be? Now would actually be a good time,” Clara observed as more snowballs skimmed the top of their fort. Charlie had to chuck a few more of his own to prevent Tonks from getting any closer.

“Simple. We use a freezing charm to turn one of our snowballs into a giant ice ball. I’ll use a propulsion charm to send it forward. With any luck their castle should come crumbling down and victory ours!”

“What the heck? I’m in!” Penny said excitedly over the noise, her rosy cheeks becoming apparent in the winter weather which was fast becoming colder in the later afternoon. Pink contrasted her light blue outfit (she was also the only one still wearing a skirt). Charlie’s Quidditch reflexes served him well but even he couldn’t overcome the odds of beating four other teengers surrounded by a full blown fort.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to use magic. Wouldn’t that be cheating?” Em asked, naive to the fact that no one adhered to that rule during a wizard snowball fight.

“Em, they’re using magic already,” Clara said bluntly, her practical nature coming into play already. She adjusted her glasses (being practically blind without them) and peeked out over the top and sure enough, saw the evidence needed to prove her accusation.

“Merula...I knew it,” she breathed out, frost emanating from her lips. “A banishing charm.”

“So that’s why those snowballs keep coming in so hot,” Rowan said, rubbing a gloved hand underneath her chin.

“And Tonks is using her metamorphagus ability to turn her nose into a trunk!” Charlie added, tossing another snowball back the other way and ducking down. “Bloody, cheater.”

“Then I say we hold nothing back,” Clara suggested.

“Sure that won’t be a problem with Barnaby?” Penny teased.

“He’s six foot three and can eat three turkeys in one setting, he’ll be fine,” the Gryffindor girl responded with a small blush trying to ignore feeling the pang of guilt at the idea of pelting him with snowballs. But there was no time to waste and when it came to December battles amongst the powdery, ice cream hills of Hogwarts all bets were off.

“Let’s do this,” Rowan remarked. Taking out her wand and removing one of her gloves, she summoned one of the snowballs while the rest their magic to summon snow from the ground to steadily grow it to the size of a grapefruit, spinning like the back wheel of a car, glistening in the glowing pink light of the evening sky.

“Now it’s really time for bombs away,” Penny giggled fond of muggle sayings.

“Oh I’d say so,” Rowan grinned mischievously. “Once that thing blows open their fort wall, Clara you and Charlie charge forth and win the battle.”

“What should I do?” little Em asked, still eager to help.

“Just keep throwing snowballs with Penny and Rowan, okay?” Clara ordered. She was quite protective of her sister even in light hearted situations such as these. Besides, despite being the most practical of the group the sixteen year old carried a competitive streak of her own.

“Three...two...one...NOW!”

At Clara’s command, Rowan muttered the necessary incantation and sent the massive ice ball at top speed towards their adversaries. Such was the speed, it had no trouble bursting through their castle with such force that it did exactly as Rowan foretold.

“CHARGE!” Charlie howled above the din as he and Clara rushed forward dodging strikes issued by their opponents, weaving and somersaulting in and out before performing an attack of their own.

“Eat snow! Take this!” Clara laughed as she struck Tulip and then fired another shot at Merula which caught her straight in the face (she never tired of one upping the Slytherin girl). But when wheeling around to do the same to Barnaby she came upon a strange sight. Her boyfriend didn’t seem to have his heart in the friendly competition at all. On the contrary, handsome, chiseled features were flat and carried a degree of melancholy unusual especially on Christmas.

My love, what’s the matter?

But before Clara could drop her snowballs and inquire further, someone beat her to the punch as a powerful burst of white exploded in the face of the burly Slytherin.

“Yes!” Charlie Weasley yelled out triumphantly. But Clara was not out of danger just yet, in her hesitation a projectile just missed the back of her head and only because Barnaby moved her out of the way just in time.

“Merula!” he said crossly. “Come on, don’t cheat.”

“Speak for yourself,” the Slytherin witch said with equal disdain. “We said no magic and yet here we are.”

“You broke the rule first,” Charlie argued.

“Right like you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“Enough,” Clara cut across the cacophony of argument which was reaching a boiling point. “It’s getting dark. Let’s go back inside.”

Her insistence, as well as her leadership qualities over the group won over as the magically flying snowballs ceased and even Merula despite her snarling, gave in to logic though it was apparent from the look on her face she would have continued given the opportunity.

“Fine, Lin,” she said with a shrug that failed to hide its competitiveness.

Whistling over, Clara signaled to Rowan, Penny, and her sister that the fight was over but that was not the end of the drama. Looking back towards Barnaby, the sadness etched on his face had not dissipated in the slightest.

“Are you okay?” she asked kindly, mittened hands interjoing for a brief moment before Barnaby pulled away.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure don’t look fine.”

Barnaby was much better at hiding his emotions than a certain other Slytherin and gave a smile that would have seemed natural were it not for the previous circumstances.

“Don’t worry about me, Clara. We have a whole Christmas ahead of us. And pudding!” he added excitedly.

The childlike enthusiasm that normally enraptured her would have normally worked, but being the sensible Gryffindor she was (a rarity in the house of the brave) could tell this was not the entire story. Nevertheless, she did not press further...for now.

“Alright.”

She was given an affectionate kiss before the group trudged back to the castle as the light decreased and the day drew to a close. Even holding hands walking to the entrance felt oddly out of place.

“Good match, Clara Lin,” Tulip said with a wink. “See ya tomorrow for the feast.”

“Bye, Clara!” Penny waved cheerfully as she descended towards the basement and thereby the kitchens.

With the exception of her housemates and sister with whom she shared a common room, everyone waved a hearty goodbye but her boyfriend did not say anything other than giving a quick kiss on the forehead before lumbering off quickly behind Merula. How ironic it should be that the youngest among them should voice aloud her suspicions.

“Barnaby seemed sad,” Em mentioned as they approached the fat lady.

“Hm?” Clara asked, not expecting such a comment from her eleven year old sister.

“He kissed you but not the usual way,” came the innocent response. “Maybe he’s homesick.”

“Barnaby’s fine, I’m sure of it. If he says so, I believe him.”

“Do you believe everything I’ve told you.”

Clara rolled her eyes at her little sister.

“It’s different with siblings, Em. You’re just lucky mum told me to let you tag along.”

“I didn’t need to tag along to know your boyfriend didn’t wanna throw snowballs.”

At this conjecture, Rowan gave the password (Festum Maximus) but not before the remark caused Clara to pause for a brief second before continuing into the common room. She knew Barnaby and would be aware of any personal problem or grief he had within his psyche.

Right?

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Clara briefly forgot about the snowball fight after sharing some hot cocoa with Charlie and then some brief but good natured gossip with Rowan. The two girls discussed all manner of things as they usually did- presents, family, relationships, and what they would wear to the feast the next day however fancy or casual. But soon the warm and coziness of their dormitory overtook them and without fuss or fanfare fell asleep into the soft snows into the night, falling down silently within the December darkness.

By morning, however, the same excitement came upon them both as light permeated through the stained glass windows. The snow had since ceased, but a fresh layer of powder brought more excitement to an otherwise extremely white Christmas. And presents were waiting.

“Race you down!” Rowan said with a laugh as she bounded out of her bed, blue robe flying behind her.

“No you don’t!” Clara shouted back.

It wasn’t long until they were opening presents of which there were many laying under the tree. Charlie was already one step ahead of them, a blue Weasley sweater with a large ‘W’ inscribed on the front courtesy of the kindly Mrs. Weasley whom Clara had acquainted with by now.

“Happy Christmas, Clara!” the redhead said cheerfully.

“Happy Christmas to you too, Charlie.”

“You two seem to have quite a few gifts. Don’t hold back on my account,” Charlie said with a good natured chuckle and waggle of the eyebrows.

Neither of the girls did. Trying to be sensitive to the fact that her best male friend (aside from her boyfriend) did not come from wealth, Clara and Rowan opened their presents slowly and with a degree of caution. The latter came from a naturally wealthy family due to the success of their tree farm while the former, not rich by any stretch of the imagination, still accrued enough gifts to acquire a sizeable load- treacle fudge from Hagrid, a Gryffindor Quidditch scarf from Charlie, a cookbook from Em (‘haha’ she thought sardonically given her lack of skill in making cuisine of any type), a red dress from Penny hand stitched, a new mug from Rowan, further sweets from Mrs. Weasley, and a book on Chinese Mandarin from her parents, no doubt to further education as a potential ambassador like they wanted. Annoying, but even so Clara knew her parents loved her all the same despite their flaws.

After an hour or so she thought that all of her presents had been opened until Rowan flipped her one last gift, missed originally from the large pile.

“It’s from Barnaby,” she explained.

Of course! How could I have forgotten?

Clara hoped he had enjoyed his gift down in the dungeons (Newt Scamander’s latest book on creatures) but had not yet detected his own token of gratitude. It was actually quite small- a little rectangular box no bigger than ten centimeters wrapped in red and green paper with sparkles topped with a golden bow. All in all the decoration by itself was impressive.

Opening up, her jaw almost dropped.

It was a moving photo of Clara and her family before Jacob disappeared. Everyone appeared radiantly happy but there was reason for it. Right away she discerned that this was the photo she’d given Barnaby three years at the end of their third year before parting ways. A wave of nostalgia hit her as she witnessed her parents smiling and waving, Jacob’s tepid nervousness at what he was about to face, his younger sister giving a gigantic hug, while little Emily sucked on a pacifier, blissfully content in doing so. The meaning was not lost on the sixth year Gryffindor: a time when her family had been happy and unspoiled by the loss of a child. The photo was framed in silver and carried a heartfelt note.

May your family always guide you even in the darkest of times.

-Love, Barnaby

Wiping her eyes, Clara looked up towards Rowan and Charlie who had also noticed the scene.

“This was so beautiful,” she spoke quietly.

“Aw, hun,” Rowan comforted sitting beside her, embracing the fireside. “You know he’d do anything for you.”

“I’m wondering...maybe Em wasn’t so crazy. What if he really was struggling with something and I ignored him?”

“You’ll see him at the feast,” Charlie reasoned, playing with a dragon toy Bill had given him from Gringotts. “And I’m sure he’ll love how much you appreciated the gift.”

Clara supposed that might be true but she couldn’t help but feel something was amiss. Either way, her cursebreaker instincts would be put to the test in finding out the truth. Barnaby never held back from her. He was always jolly and upbeat, why should this holiday season be any different?

I just hope I’m not too late….

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The Hogwarts feast was as grand as it always was- twelve enormous fir trees decorated with an array of colorful ornaments decked the halls, wreaths, mistletoe, and holly hung from the ceiling in a wide array of patterns. Along the tables belonging to each house lay a smorgasbord of dishes- roast turkey, mashed potatoes, sprouts, chicken, green beans, pudding, treacle tart, and so much more. The kitchen pulled out all the stops and Professor Dumbledore sitting at the head of the staff table gave his stamp approval, his blue eyes twinkling with holiday joy.

“To the many few who opted to stay behind for our voluptuous feast I say- tuck in.”

Charlie roared with approval as he ravenously delved into the goodies with Clara and Rowan not far behind. It didn’t take long for the rest of the group to show up- Penny, Tulip, Tonks, etc. They were the only one among the sixth years that had stayed behind with a mere handful of younger students hanging around awkwardly by themselves. The teenage Gryffindor would have given more thought to them were it not for the fact that she was anticipating a certain someone.

“Have you seen, Barnaby?” she would ask every time a new guest sat down at the Gryffindor table (it didn’t matter who sat where at this point). No one knew. Her sister remained blissfully unaware of course by the time she arrived, bragging about how many presents received that year.

Though trying to enjoy the scrumptious feast at hand, Clara couldn’t but look up every so often or so for her boyfriend...which by Rowan’s calculations was every five minutes.

“You’re not even eating,” came her best friend’s admonishment. “Relax, he’ll be here.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“He can eat more than the rest of us combined. Why would he miss the opportunity?” Charlie reasoned.

“The feast is his favorite part of Christmas,” Penny said, reaching across and squeezing Clara’s hand.

Despite the kindly reassuring of her friends, it wasn’t until Clara caught a flash of green that she truly began to seek out answers. Unfortunately, the green sweater did not belong to a burly man of about 190 centimeters but of a Slytherin girl recognized as her greatest rival (and pest at times). Merula joined their table without fanfare but right away everyone could tell there was something amiss. Far from being a ‘friendly’ person you could always count on a sarcastic or snarky remark from Merula Snyde. Not so this time around.

“Lin. I think you need to go see Barnaby,” she stated bluntly, getting straight to the point.

The table immediately ceased eating at this development, not that Clara had consumed much beforehand.

“What?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Are you deaf, Lin? The bighead isn’t even interested in eating and that’s saying something…” she huffed in frustration knowing sensitivity wasn’t her strong suit and tried to deliver the news more amicably. “Just see him, okay? He doesn’t want to talk to anyone else.”

Were this their first year, the amount of trust in Merula would have been below that of a snake. But five years later, she would not have informed Clara of something that delicate were it not of serious importance. They were collaborative rivals after all...not bitter enemies. At least not anymore.

“Where is he?” came the simple question.

“In the courtyard freezing his arse off. Just...don’t let him do anything stupid. More than he already does.”

Clara wasted no time in getting up from the table. She didn’t even bother to look back at the reactions her friends may or may not have had. The hunch of the previous day had been right...but she’d fail to recognize it. For Merlin’s sake even little Em could tell. What was so deficient within herself that her own boyfriend stood out on Christmas alone in the cold?”

“Sis?” Em called out but it was no use. She was out of the Great Hall before anyone could say so much as ‘Doris Crockford.’

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It didn’t take long for Clara to reach the desired destination. So frantic was her pace, there was barely time to button up her jacket, pull on her black knit gloves and hat, while also adjusting her hair into its usual long ponytail. But none of that mattered. Personal comfort could be foregone in the face of a significant other suffering needlessly. Numerous anxious thoughts raced through the brain upon the approach, seeing that he was dressed in a dark brown jacket, jeans, a blue and red hat with a puffball on top complete with calf level brown boots.

Something was wrong...something was wrong and I didn’t bother to ask. I just assumed. What if I made him upset? What if he wants to break up?

“Calm yourself, Clara,” she admonished herself. “Barnaby wouldn’t hold back anything from you.”

Despite that attempt at reassurance, it didn’t do much for her nerves. That being said, a Gryffindor did what was necessary in spite of fear. For better or worse, this Christmas conversation had to occur. For Merlin’s sake, even Merula knew when something was off. But the analytical mind wouldn’t let the issue go until she found out what plagued him so.

“Barnaby!” the cursebreaker said in a tone that fully betrayed her anxiety. “Merula told me you were out here. Is everything okay?”

“Did you like your present?”

The simple reply, a question to a question. In fact she was so taken aback by it, words failed her for a brief moment.

“I-uh….yes. Of course I did, but that’s not the reason I came out here.”

She took both his hands in hers, noting just how much taller he was in situations like these. It took quite the effort to kiss him but the primary concern lay with the heart- underneath the archway of the west aqueduct in the courtyard, twinkling white crystals winking in the late early morning sun. Both of their breaths resonated but only one had trouble looking the other in the eye.

“Was my present not what you wanted? I know you’re interested in being a Magizoolist but if there was something else I could get you instead…”

A finger pressed against her rosy, red lips.

“But did you like mine?”

The question, being repeated twice became a source of puzzlement now.

“Barnaby I already told you I loved it. It’s not often I get to see a picture of my family whole like that…” she paused, narrowing her eyes but not unkindly. “Why?”

“If you’re happy that’s all I care about on this special day.”

“But if you’re not, how can this day be special?” Clara countered. “Please...don’t keep me out. What’s wrong. Merula sees it and so can I.”

There could be so many explanations as to why her boyfriend was upset. But this wasn’t a cursed vault where a keen, undiluted mind could be put to the task in finding it. It didn’t require analytics, but empathy.

Barnaby stuffed mittened hands into the pockets of his jeans, turning his head to the side.

“I...I thought if you could realize how important your family is to you maybe it might help...with mine,” he breathed out.

“What do you-oh…” Clara said, letting out a soft sigh of realization. “Your dad.”

“Yes.”

“He yelled at you again in a letter.”

“No.”

“He disowned you?”

“No.”

“He said something-”

“Clara,” the sixteen year old Slytherin said sharply though the aim of his emotions was not directed towards her. “He didn’t send me anything this year. Nothing.”

It took a second for the Gryffindor to sink that in her brain.

“Nothing?”

“Our relationship has been bad for awhile. But at least he sent me presents. Heck, he liked that I was good at fighting and eating. I love both those things.”

“You’re more than just a fighter and an eater,” she soothed in a soft tone, rubbing his arm. “You know that.”

“I do,” he said, still not looking directly at her. “But with me constantly disobeying his wishes and taking my own path in life...it makes me realize my family has always been rubbish. Those presents were only under the three if I did what he said...and the wrapping paper was always lousy!” he added.

Clara had an inkling of what her boyfriend’s life was like but not much beyond a few short stories and traumatizing incidents he never liked to discuss. But to be cut off completely well that was news to her. And it wasn’t fair.

“Sweetie, listen,” she told him, wrapping her arms around his strong neck. “It’s not your fault.”

“But it is. If I had just…” his voice cut off now unable to say anything more beyond potential crying and Clara could see tears welling up in his eyes. “I-If I can’t have my family, you should at least appreciate how amazing yours is.”

“Shhh,” she said, rocking him in a tone she used whenever he became upset. Being a member of the frog choir and an excellent singer, it helped calm her boyfriend. And now was the perfect time.

Silent night, holy night

All is calm, all is bright

The muggle tune was one she knew growing up and read from one of her mother’s books at university. Given that it was Christmas time, the moment felt quite appropriate. Slowly, she grabbed his left hand and led him around the courtyard as if they were dancing, feet crunching in the snow in a soft ballad until they stopped below a string of mistletoe that hung in one of the archways.

Sleep in heavenly peace

Upon the ending of the song, she wiped the stream of tears from his cheeks.

“You always have a family in me,” Clara said, adjusting his scruffy, brown hair underneath his hat. “And you’re the greatest gift a girl could ask for.”

Slowly and with such tenderness that the loving couple melted into each other like a marshmallow into a cup of hot chocolate, they kissed.

“Merry Christmas, Barnaby Lee.”

The Slytherin grinned back, picking her up by her waist and swinging around and dipping her forward as if she were a princess. All tears were gone and regret washed away by the spirit of the season.

“Merry Christmas, Clara Lin.”

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nerianasims · 3 years

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Billboard #1s 1984

Under the cut.

Yes -- "Owner of a Lonely Heart" -- January 21, 1984

The full version of this song is way too long. Not surprising from a former prog rock band. The music is good and interesting, but it loses me before the end even in the shorter single version. There's too much stuff. As for the lyrics, maybe that prog rock gloss made people think they were profound, but they look like self-help. Some incredibly 80s Reagan-era individualism, better to be alone than to be hurt, you're the only one you can count on, blah blah blah. Not for me. 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Culture Club -- "Karma Chameleon" -- February 4, 1984

The video to this song has nothing to do with it, unless there's supposed to be a connection between the con artist on the fantasy world 19th century steamboat and the guy who keeps coming and going whom Boy George is singing to. And I didn't fully realize the "you come and go" double entendre until just now. I like the video, anyway. And I like the song quite a bit. It's a very cheerful-sounding song about being strung along by some asshole.

Van Halen -- "Jump" -- February 25, 1984

Van Halen was something boys were into. It's weird how we delineate these things. At least back in 1984, if it got coded as a boy thing, then if you were a girl and also found it interesting, you'd damn well better hide it or certain other more socially powerful kids would tear you to shreds. That was my experience, anyway. (And if other girls were into it and you were not, you were also in serious trouble.) So though when I heard Van Halen songs I thought, "hm, I'm intrigued," I did not dare pursue that interest. Except for this song. This one was allowed. It's fun.

Kenny Loggins -- "Footloose" -- March 31, 1984

Footloose is a pretty good movie. At least I remember it being so when I eventually saw it in college in the 90s. Anything that stands against censorship, and for art and people having fun, already has an in with me. Also Kevin Bacon's great. The song isn't about the movie particularly; it's just about how dancing is wonderful. Though there is a hint at the movie: "You're playing so cool/ Obeying every rule/ Deep way down in your heart/ You're burning yearning for some/ Somebody to tell you/ That life ain't passing you by/ I'm trying to tell you/ It will if you don't even try." Yeah. Agatha Christie at one point lamented that young people in the 1950s were far too serious and self-righteous, and really needed to go dance in fountains. I feel the same now as she did then. Though wait until after the covid vaccine's been widely taken. Anyway, this is a good dance song.

Phil Collins -- "Against All Odds (Take A Look At Me Now)" -- April 21, 1984

It's a lament about being dumped. Apparently, Collins wrote it about his wife leaving him out of the blue, taking the kids and the dog with her. Ouch. There's a great drum part, which keeps the song from being too boring, but I still don't like it. Phil Collins' serious love/heartbreak songs don't do it for me. I find this one depressing without being cathartic.

Lionel Richie -- "Hello" -- May 12, 1984

I remember this video from when it was on the air. Mostly because of the Lionel Richie clay head. But also because I was like... is she his student? Isn't that a bad thing? Even though she's an adult in college, I still thought you weren't supposed to do that? I've had a major squick against teacher/student relationships, even in fiction, since I was a kid. Possibly this is because I come from a family of professors. (I didn't get a PhD and am therefore the black sheep.) Without reference to the video, the song is terrible. The lyrics are just repetitive cheese, whatever, but the song is so slow and blah and I don't like Lionel Richie's singing.

Deniece Williams -- "Let's Hear It For the Boy" -- May 26, 1984

I keep being surprised that there are people who think someone is worthless if they don't have a lot of money and don't dress fashionably. In this song, the titular boy also can't dance, but is that a thing that people get dinged for in reality? I don't know, maybe. This song was in Footloose, and it's the same sentiment as "My Guy"; her boy isn't some smooth-talking rich brat, but "he's my lovin' one-man show." He's like Edward Ferrars, not Willoughby. It's a fun song.

Cyndi Lauper -- "Time After Time" -- June 9, 1984

This is one of the greatest songs ever. Not just pop songs. Any song, of any type.

Duran Duran -- "The Reflex" -- June 23, 1984

These lyrics make no sense. That doesn't matter for this song much, which is all about the music. Which is not the best of Duran Duran's music. For all the many, many, MANY different musical ideas in it, it's actually kinda boring. They'd have done better to simplify. I imagine this sounds something like cocaine feels, though drinking way too many Mountain Dews to pull an all-nighter's my only comparison. Duran Duran were never my favorite, but I do enjoy many of their songs. This one, meh.

Prince -- "When Doves Cry" -- July 7, 1984

Prince only two songs after Cyndi Lauper? Is it my birthday? The song's lyrics start out being about the amazing chemistry between the narrator and "you." That establishes why they're together. Then Prince moves on to how they "scream at each other," and it's what it sounds like "when doves cry." He's accusatory -- "How could you just leave me standing/ Alone in a world so cold?" But then he goes right into thinking maybe it's his fault: "Maybe I'm just too demanding" etc. It's a sexy, thoughtful, and anguished song about a relationship in trouble. I like to think they'll overcome their problems and stop screaming at each other. Trust me, it's very possible. Also the music is great.

Ray Parker Jr. -- "Ghostbusters" -- August 11, 1984

Um. I have no idea how to evaluate this one. I heard it first in the theatre when I saw the movie, but I heard it years after every week when I watched the cartoon. It just... is.

Tina Turner -- "What's Love Got To Do With It" -- September 1, 1984

I have an overwhelming memory of hearing this song when I was alone in the grocery store as a teenager. I have no idea why the memory's so strong. Maybe it was the first time I went to the grocery store by myself? Maybe I ran into a guy I had a huge crush on, though I don't remember that? (If I was 16, that could have been one of any three guys... Romance is my secondary aspiration, after all.) In any case, it's a good song. The attempt to pretend love is a bunch of chemicals and doesn't truly matter is a pretty common one for the broken-hearted. And Tina Turner's great as always.

John Waite -- "Missing You" -- September 22, 1984

Two songs in a row about being in denial over matters of love. Interesting. This isn't the most fascinating song ever, but it's a good solid song about heartbreak that isn't gloopy at all. In the main vocals, Waite keeps insisting "I ain't missing you," but in the background is a soft voice that sings "missing you" over and over. That's a smart artistic move.

Prince and the Revolution -- "Let's Go Crazy" -- September 29, 1984

I liked a lot of pop music when I was 7, but I didn't get Prince. His songs sort of slid out of my brain as a "thing for grownups," and who could understand grownups? He was short and wore fancy outfits, and that's about all that registered. When I hit puberty, though... yeah. This song is more adult than that, though, and I don't mean sexually, though there is plenty of sex in this song. "You better live now/ Before the grim reaper come knocking on your door." The song is about sex, partying, and death. Also Prince was an astonishing guitarist, along with everything else. It's not one of my favorite Prince songs, because the lyrics are pretty depressing and it's super loud, but it's still great.

Stevie Wonder -- "I Just Called To Say I Love You" -- October 13, 1984

I never really listened to the background beep-de-boops in this song before. I've wondered before why this song, with its simple lyrics and melody, didn't bore me. It's the beep-de-boops. They, along with Stevie Wonder's perfect delivery, make this song musically complex. And the simple lyrics, with the more complex musical counterpoints, absolutely work. It helps that this is the kind of thing people really do.

Billy Ocean -- "Caribbean Queen" -- November 3, 1984

That heavy breathing after the line "I get so excited just from her perfume" is unfortunate. Otherwise, it's a song about how he met this "Caribbean Queen" on vacation and she "tamed" him so he's no longer looking for "love on the run." Sure, why not. I'd like a little more story to it, but that's me. It's got a good beat though, and is enjoyable enough as-is.

Wham! -- "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" -- November 17, 1984

I just realized I don't like this song. The beat and hook are sort of irresistible, and as a dance song the music absolutely works. But there's too much nostalgia about stuff that George Michael actually wasn't old enough to be nostalgic about. He was only 21 at the time, born in 1963, and yet he was singing about Doris Day. You can homage anything at any age, but... meh. And speaking of age, it's kind of a childish song and George Michael's voice was always more on the mature end, even if he was young at the time. For me, it hits a jarring note.

Daryl Hall & John Oates -- "Out of Touch" -- December 8, 1984

The beginning makes it sound like this is gonna be a relatively hard rock song, but that ends after a pretty short time. It's still really loud, with huge drums, and Hall pretty much shouts the song. Hall & Oates were great when they stripped stuff down. All this noise doesn't work for them. There are neat parts when all the noise suddenly stops and there's total silence, but then it goes right back to the rather uninteresting loudness. Not for me.

Madonna -- "Like A Virgin" -- December 22, 1984

And so it begins. Backstory: Madonna went to the same high school as my mother. She was friends (maybe more? he won't talk) with one of my uncles. When my grandmother saw the Like A Virgin album on the rack at the store, she said, "I'm so glad [he] didn't marry that girl." When my mother told me that, my reaction was "Are you kidding? We'd be rich!" But my family cares about PhDs and not money. My uncle ran wild in high school, but eventually became a successful career diplomat (and stopped being a jackass) after the woman he was in love with told him he'd better shape up or else. Also he looks a lot like Guy Ritchie, so that was weird for a while. I'd be in the grocery store and for a second think, "Why's my uncle on The Enquirer with Madonna?"

So anyway, the song. The way Madonna sang it in later iterations, I like it. I can't stand the version that became a #1 hit. The Betty Boop voice is just ugh. I love a lot of Madonna's music, and she would be something of an inspiration to me in later days, with her unapologetic persona as a woman who liked and wanted sex -- and enjoyed shocking the censorious -- but I was 8 at the time. I didn't get any of it, I just knew she sounded squeaky in this song and it bugged me.

BEST OF 1984: "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper. WORST OF 1984: "Hello" by Lionel Richie

#billboard number ones

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softestsaddestbitch · 3 years

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December TC Challenge

stole this from @elder-edda (sorry for creeping! just, given the usual demographic of the tc community I was excited to find another 20-smthg)

1) what color is your tc’s hair?

He has just, simple brown hair but he’s starting to go grey which, no lie, is 100% doing it for me.

2) is your tc married?

Yes? He doesn’t wear a ring and I believe she kept her last name which makes me think it’s more of a civil partnership since they’ve been together since the early 2000s at least. But he also will refer to her as “my wife” and was telling me once that they waited until “after they got married” before moving in together.

3) if yes, do you care? would you do something with them regardless of their marriage?

I know these questions are general but I do take offense at the idea of being a homewrecker/other woman. I’ve met his wife, she’s really nice.

4) what’s your worst memory with your tc?

I put my foot in my mouth SO OFTEN. Good lord. Especially my last semester at that school? He was acting weird and I had just realized after fucking ... four years?? that I romantically liked him. So I kept bringing up my weird age fixation and other bs bc I have adhd and am possibly autistic?? and can’t read a room to save my life.

5) what’s your best memory with your tc?

One year we had a really bad snowstorm, so bad in fact that I had my first-ever snow day. The college that I used to go to has four campuses across as many cities, and C has to drive in twice a week to my (old) town from his. Now, morning classes had been canceled but afternoon classes had been given the go-ahead. C, who does not check his emails until he arrives at campus, evidently did not get this message until he was already in town and therefore didn’t have a morning class, but did have an afternoon class. On this day I had a late morning class that had been reinstated, but my prof didn’t get that memo so I also was on campus but didn’t have a class. So I went to visit his office, which I had been doing throughout the semester (I didn’t have a class with him at the time) and we just ... hung out for like 2 hours. It was so nice and one of the anecdotes he told me still haunts me lol.

sidenote: at the time, I hadn’t yet realized that I liked him, but I still went out of my way to visit him. Damn I was a dumbass.

6) does anyone in your school know how you feel?

ish? I told a classmate but in a “haha joking” kinda way. And a friend who went to that school knows. No one at my current school knows.

7) does your tc know how you feel?

I think he might? might have a lil inkling which would explain why he started acting so weird my last semester. Or at the very least was told/realized how bad it could look that he was getting so chummy w/ a student.

8) do you think there’s any chance your tc reciprocates your feelings?

He and his wife have been together for around 20 years now. No. No, I don’t think so. Maybe in an alternate universe.

9) are you getting your tc a christmas present? if so, what is it?

I have in the past! Specifically like, a tin of cookies lol. I’ve also given him an actual present when I left. I do intend to send him a Christmas card every year but not this year because ... you know ... the apocalypse.

10) have you ever flirted with your tc?

Flirtation inherently has intent. So, no. How he interpreted our interactions I don’t know.

11) how long have you had a crush on them? what began it all?

SO! TIMELINE!

I was at my old school from September 2014-April 2019, I had C for the first time in September 2015. Like I mentioned above, I did not realize I had a crush on him until literally the middle of my final exam of my class with him December 2018, so I’ve only consciously had a crush for about two years now. However, as I also mentioned, I went out of my way to stop by his office, even when I didn’t have a class with him. And my relationship with/feelings towards him are complicated so I’m not going to say I did so solely because I like him, but I would put it maybe closer to somewhere in 2017. You don’t plan your schedule around someone you don’t feel strong feelings for.

12) do you believe you’ll get over them shortly after you stop taking their class/have the chance to spend time with them?

As of today, it has been been exactly a year and a half since I last him in person. In the time since, I have cried over missing him, routinely gone back to keep up with his current research projects, and made his picture a part of my home screen. I almost exclusively listen to the playlist I made for him - so much so my Spotify Wrapped is pretty much that playlist with a few extras.

13) what kind of grades do you get in their class?

Haaaaaa pre-supension I was failing his classes. My first semester back I got .... a mid/high 70? and I finished my last class with him with an A+ and the essay I had written for his class had the highest grade between the two classes so..

14) does your tc ever do any tiny, little things that you adore?

When he puts a hand in his pocket and leans against the wall. When he tucks his hair behind his ear because he keeps falling in his face (he has long hair, a little past his shoulders). When he can’t stop himself from googling something even if its in the middle of class. How you can ask him anything at any time. The way he would chuckle at my jokes. How his handwriting hasn’t improved in decades. How easily he brushes off toxic masculinity. His candidness and willingness to share little anecdotes. The way he used to always smile whenever he saw me. That he goes home everyday to have lunch with his wife.

15) are you their favorite student?

I was! And it was obvious to other students that we had a friendly, casual relationship too. For a time, if his other students had questions about him they would ask me, and I usually had the answer. I didn’t matter in the long run, but I was.

16) do you two share any tastes? movies, books, music, etc.

He’s a legal historian, I’m a baby legal/political historian. We also like the same historical cooking youtube channel.

17) is your teacher religious?

I doubt he would say he’s religious, but I feel like we have a similar relationship to religion which is to say no formal association, but had profound effects on our childhoods and subsequently, presumably, how we view things as adults.

18) do you masturbate to them?

Yes.

19) do you communicate with them outside of school?

I sent him a meme once. And asked about the socialist uprising scandal he was apart of. I also almost emailed him while at a museum exhibition with my history friend. These are all through email.

20) do you have any tc songs or songs you relate to your tc? what are they?

SO my number one song this year was “You are the Reason” by Calum Scott because, you guessed it, of him. But also:

I Lost a Friend - Finneas When You’re Ready - Shawn Mendes You Are in Love - Taylor Swift Break My Heart Right - James

& given the season, especially w/ what transpired last year, Last Christmas by Wham!

21) what’s your favorite thing your tc has said/memory you have with them?

One time he kinda trailed off in the middle of lecture after stating that he thought of xyz a particular way which contrasted one of the popular schools of thought, and the way he plainly said, “well, yeah, which I guess ... is I’m arguing it” almost like he was semi-surprised with himself has always stuck with me.

But also, in addition the memory I shared earlier, we spent an hour and a half talking about grad school and what to expect and how to get there.

22) do you plan to continue a relationship with them after you leave school?

I trid, I really did. But he doesn’t “socialize with students part or present” so I can’t exactly see him. But I did get some academic-related from him at the beginning of the year.

23) how will you deal during the summer? will you see him/her?

He’s a hermit who used my last vacation before I moved to go on all the vacations he had to postpone because he was working on his last book. And this past summer ... Covid. This question is obviously directed at high school students, but in general, he lives in the back of head always, and when I’m in my hometown for the summer my heart aches because theres a none-zero chance I’ll see him, but I know I won’t.

24) does your tc support gay rights?

Yes. He’s never been put in a position that I know of where he had to outright condemn homophobia, but in one of his classes, he actively made the choice to make the very first reading of the semester about how women in ancient times had more agency than assumed, and also how the woman in the case study was a lesbian.

25) what class do you have with them? And what period? Do you have them every day?

History classes. I won’t get into specifics because it’s kind of an eclectic mix and I’m paranoid someone from the area could come across this. But I had him twice a week every semester that I had him. Again this kind of question is more so applicable to high school students, not so much university students.

26) have you ever drifted out during a lecture thinking about them and missed information?

No. In his classes he is too enthralling, and I’m a good student otherwise.

27) have you stalked them online? what did you find out?

In theory. He’s a fifty-year-old history professor whose reaction to a description of the big lipped/tiny face filter on snapchat was “that sounds disgusting.” The man doesn’t have social media, and if he does those privacy settings are on so students can’t find him he thinks he’s very professional. I do visit his mini-bio section on the college website fairly often tho.

28) have you ever run into them outside of schools? what happened?

I did once. He introduced me to his wife, who said “oh you’re E! C has talked about you” and it apparently he had done so positively, and blew my mind because this was back when I was failing classes and also, as a person, I don’t believe that people think about me when I’m not there. They gave me a restaurant recommendation and afterwards his wife surprised me a they were leaving the restaurant because ... we had listened to them, and they also went there for lunch that day.

29) has your tc ever spoken of teacher-student relationships? what did they say?

It had recently come out that it had been found out that another professor had been in a relationship with a student and he’s the one that brought it up before class one day (with all of us not just me). He didn’t say anything for or against it, just that it was generally discouraged, but that most schools did have policies in place to handle the situation.

30) do you regret telling anyone about your tc? if you’ve kept it a secret, why have you done so?

Absolutely not. I can’t tell my best friends because they’d do nothing but give me shit for it and it would call every time I mention him into question. But the friends that I have told ... its been so freeing, and like a weight has been lifted from my heart. One friend in particular I unloaded on her all my emotional shit pertaining to him this past summer and she was so understanding it legit since then I’ve been less distraught when thinking about him. It still hurts, but it feels less like I’m suffocating now.

#personal #professor crush #professor crush community #teacher crush #monthly challenge #december

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gagmebucky · 5 years

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summary—

in which bucky retaliates against your public teasing. (includes exhibitionism, sex, dirty talk, and cock warming.)

(a/n—i’ve never written for bucky (or marvel at all) so please, please, please be nice!! this turned out way different originally imagined but i think it’s better? but feedback is greatly apperciated!! anyway, love you! thank you for reading! do NOT repost)

excerpt—

“Don’t fucking move,” Bucky growls. “You hear me? You move even an inch, and I will fuck you right here. I’ll rip this pretty dress off, and keep going and going until you can’t anymore. In front of everyone. Do you understand me?”

when the tease gets teased—

You’re the world’s greatest tease, according to him. But you argue you’re only as good as the object of your desire, that if he wasn’t so sensitive to you, so responsive with the lightest touch, half hard by the simple bat of your eyelashes, you wouldn’t be as successful as you are.

It’s your favorite pastime, the most thrilling game—provoking him in public: testing his limits until he’s so overcome with need, he’s got you in the nearest private space, fucking you with a bruising and delicious brutality. The look in his steely eyes, that flash of sexualized anger, the struggle against what you invoke in him, to not react then the way he handles you after; it’s addicting.

You don’t consider yourself the world’s greatest tease, you consider yourself his best tease. You know him well, to his delight and frustration, turned in into an art form. At any given moment, alone or in the presence of others, you know exactly how to spark the dark flicker of his eyes, cause that defined jaw tick and tick, make his capable hands clench and flex in waning restraint.

And nobody's the wiser.

Like today, perched on his lap, at a barbecue while he talks with his closest friends: your legs strewn across his sideways, your shoulder resting against his chest, your head nuzzled underneath his neck, close enough to hear the steady beat of his heart.

He has a possessive, metal hand on your exposed thigh, fingers still, the coolness nice underneath the beam of the sun. In his other, he’s nursing a condensated beer bottle, setting it down after downing the last gulp.

That’s when you make your move. He’s distracted, engrossed in a high spirited conversation. Other than a curious glance, he doesn’t pay you any attention—something you’ll make him think better of, next time—as you grab his free hand in yours.

You’ve always had a thing for his hands, his organic and inorganic one. You can’t count the times you’ve fawned over the latter, completely eviscerating whatever insecurity he might’ve had about the prosthetic. But, you’ll admit, you’ve neglected his fleshy one—of the other, you’ve thoroughly appreciated the robotics, the craftsmanship ship, the way he uses it, but not this one.

And it’s a damn shame, especially given how sensitive his hand is.

You trace your fingers over his, clipped nails, digits long and proportionally thick, the faint twinge of redness in his knuckles. Languidly, you follow around the underside, prompting him to subconsciously flip it around. Except for that does he respond--only reacting on the lightest of levels. But you focus on his calloused palm, rough from hard work and heroism; a fact that makes you swell hotter.

While some may prefer softer, you don’t: the texture works wonders when the pads of his fingertips are rubbing you into a quivering mess. Dexterous, heaven when on you, inside you, feeling as if made just for you, times of such flit through your mind, heat flaring within the pit of your stomach.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, manipulating and kneading his hand, thumbs pressing into pressure points that make him attempt to shift underneath you. In the middle of his story, he stammers, quickly clearing his throat and laughing it off, but you catch the dark glance flickered your way.

A silent behave! and you almost scoff aloud. He can’t possibly believe you'll behave in public when he can’t do a damn thing about it, when you get off on provoking him like this. Especially when he’s been neglecting to give you the attention you deserve!

With no acknowledgement of him, you continue with those purposeful strokes, your soft fingers spidering along his. It’s funny how such an innocent act can create such a reaction. He’s twitching, a strain in his jeans that you thankfully hide.

You compare your sizes, palm to palm, enjoying how his dwarfs yours, reminding yourself (and him) of a similar comparison with his cock: a comparison you wish you were making right now. Your long lashes flutter as you flash big and wanting eyes, a pout to your lips, a shared gaze narrowing as your cupid’s bow nestles his fingertips.

“—later, Buck,” someone is saying, prompting his smile, though its forced, nodding as he watches them walk off.

Once he’s sure they’re gone, he’s grabbing you up, his hand closing around yours, metal tangling in your hair and yanking, a sweet stinging in your scalp. “You’re being bad,” he hisses, eyes thundering with all the filthy things he’d do if you guys were alone.

You don’t flinch, thrilled by the prospect. You run your tongue along your bottom lip, barely suppressing a saucy grin, mischievousness reflecting in your striking pools. “That’s implying I’ve ever been good,” you tease, leaning in so he can feel the fan of your breath.

He looks between your gaze and lips, tempted, and that pretty blue darkens a shade and narrows on you. “You’re good when I make you.”

“Then make me.”

His frustration suddenly wipes away, something wicked twinkling in steely blue pools, the corner of his lips twisting. “Okay,” he surprisingly accepts—or so you think, initially, not processing his intention until it’s done.

After a sly survey of the backyard, confirming no one else’s attention, he manhandles you in his usual effortless and firm manner, fixes you so you’re fully straddling him now. His hands clutch underneath your ass, yours splayed on his strong chest, the apex of your legs centered above his, your dress ruffled but still covering.

Following swiftly is the one handed unzipping of his jeans, in tandem, a palm slides up the inside of your thigh, two fingers hooking under your panties and pulling then aside. The realization begins to sink in as you catch a flash of his hard anatomy then—WHAM! A sharp jerk of his hips, and you’re filled, his hands on your flanks to force you down completely.

The visceral shock of being impaled, a shadow of smarting pain colliding with sweet relief, tears a cry from your lips. Thankfully, quick reflexes and all that, his hand clamps around your mouth in time to muffle your quivering, “Bucky!”

A shudder slams down your spine, spasming around the long and thickness that is him. As you attempt to get some ground on the fact that you’re sitting on his cock in the middle of a gathering of your closest friends, gasping, he tightens his hold: refusing any additional movement despite the ache in your belly.

It shouldn’t be possible to look so inconspicuous when he’s deep in your guts. To onlookers, it simply seems like you’re just a girl on her boyfriend’s lap, your legs dangling over the chair sides, your hardened nipples hidden by his chest pressing against yours, knee length sundress swaying in the wind yet no giveaway to other activities.

Your eyes are blown wide, and he fucking loves it, practically glows in satisfaction at rendering you boneless, finally flipping the script on you. “B—Buck—Bucky—” you splutter, trying to rock into him but his grip is a vice. “What—what’re you—”

“This is what you wanted. Couldn’t behave like I asked, and I asked very nicely, but you couldn’t help yourself, could you?” His fingers dig into your ass, voice a throaty growl. “Wanted to be stuffed full of my cock so bad, and now here you are.” To punctuate, he snaps his hips up, and you squeak, slapping a hand on your mouth, paranoidly checking your setting. “And you’re going to stay like this for as long as I want. You are going to behave, or else.” His words are law in your ear, deep and gruff.

Because you’re, well, you—you acquiescence then immediately disobey: you nod, then try to writhing on his lap. An action thwarted by him, prints surely to be bruised into your cheeks by the end of the day. “Don’t fucking move,” Bucky growls. “You hear me? You move even an inch, and I will fuck you right here. In front of everyone. I’ll rip this pretty dress off, and keep going and going until you can’t anymore. In front of everyone. Do you understand me?”

You can’t answer. How can you? A whine sounds at the back of your throat, but nothing coherent. A lack of verbal response doesn’t play well with him. In retaliation, he pushes you harder down, a swirling motion that has his pubic bone rubbing on your clit before abruptly stopping. A whimper escapes, inner muscles clenching and unclenching as he repeats, “I said, do you fucking understand?”

“Yes!” you finally manage, breathless, hoarse. “Buck, oh, please. I’ll be good, just please, please. . .”

He chuckles darkly. “Yes. You will.” And it confirms that he’s going to do this, he’s going to keep you seated on his cock for as long as possible while all your friends walk by, greet you, attempt to make conversation.

You bury your face in his shoulder, taking your birthday present between your teeth: of the same material of his prosthetic, a pendant necklace of his initial, a capital B. It’s strong, a perfect makeshift gag, because you honestly think you might scream.

Beyond your struggle, you can hear someone else coming up to talk with him. Unlike yourself, he’s perfectly controlled, maintaining his cool like you aren’t throbbing around him, like he isn’t ruining you right now.

You have zero clue how he does it. You can feel the vein along the underside pulsing in time with you, also in need of release. You run warm, but he’s scorching especially inside you, the outline of him will be engraved inside you for a long time to come.

God, you think with an unintentionally audible whimper, I need to come.

“Bucky, is your girl okay?” You recognize Sam’s mildly concerned voice, feel his curious glance on your back, and you’d smile at the care and show some flattery for it but you don’t have the strength to.

Bucky shifts, and you swear you can hear the resilient necklace crack underneath the force of your teeth. “Yeah, yeah.” His hand rubs soothingly up and down your back, his explanation teasing, “She’s doing good, just a little tired from late night’s activity.”

Sam laughs. “All right, then.” You can imagine him taking a step back. “There’s a guest room, if she wanted to lay down,” he tells you both like the good friend he is, hope aflutter in your stomach. “No one should disturb you.”

Bucky head tips down, lips at your ear, humming. “Princess,” he croons softly, taking pity and pleasure in your ruined state, “d’you want to go to bed?”

Finding strength in the possibility of actually getting fucked, relieving that painful ache inside you, you manage to lift your head. Eyes half mast, needy and dark, your gaze meets his. “Please, please,” is your gentle plea.

With a slow nod, he gives you a peck then looks back up. “Thanks, man,” he says and starts to move. His hands slide underneath the back of your knees, your legs clinging to his hips. He hoists you up as he finally stands, cock gyrating inside you. And you might come, oh God, you might actually orgasm with every undulating stride.

You’re practically panting when he reaches the patio door, suddenly stopping, his lips at your ear. “You’ve been good, princess. Don’t ruin it now unless you want a real punishment,” he warns. “You come before I say, and I’ll have you like this all night if I have to.”

[send feedback here / read my other writing here]

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes insert fan fiction #bucky x you smut #marvel smut #my writing #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes writing #my fics #cockwarming kink

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happymetalgirl · 3 years

Text

Rating Christmas Songs

Yep, it’s that time of year we get inundated wherever we go with mostly shitty Christmas music, usually the same stuff as the years before and the many years before. There are some songs among the barren crop of overplayed tunes that I think are pretty enjoyable, but for the most part I feel pretty confident that most of us are just putting up with the vast majority of the holiday playlist (I mean no one is dying to play any of these songs any other time of year, so they can’t be that great), so it’s time to set the record straight.

Here’s a rating of a few of the season’s musical staples and some brief reasons behind them. I’m sure I’m missing a few classics, but do feel free to bring them up and I will offer my thoughts on them. Granted these songs all have dozens, of not hundreds or thousands of versions, so I’m kind of going by an average of what I generally hear, not the dubstep remix version or even my favorite version necessarily.

“Jingle Bells”

The classic, easy to sing, easy to play on whatever instrument, upbeat childhood Christmas song. It’s hard to mess this one up, and I’m just glad it’s not trying to get all overly serious about Christmas as many of the songs further down this list do. But I mean, it’s fucking “Jingle Bells”, who actually gives a shit about this plinky-ass song.

5/10

“O Holy Night”

This one’s cool the first several years you hear it because it sounds pretty grand and epic, but it does wear off after awhile. Still, I’d rather hear this song than most, and I’ve yet to hear it truly butchered. So cheers to that!

7/10

“Jingle Bell Rock”

The failed swaggering “update” or cousin of the classic children’s Christmas song, it’s one of those songs that sounds like a bunch of upper class white folks sipping wine and putting on the usual façade of in-person Facebook-style humble bragging and life-highlighting about their year for the family they’ve not flexed on all year or since Thanksgiving. The song though is so drab and seemingly intentional sucked of lol the fun the kid’s song had, and in its place is just overly drolly Sinatra-imitation with no spirit at all. It’s the definition of background music, and it’s for the worst kind of background. Dancing to it sure as hell sucks. If you’re hearing this song, you’re probably not having as much fun as you’re supposed to be for a song that’s supposedly more “rock”.

2/10

"O Tanenbaum"

While his semi-jazzed-up approach that characterizes the rest of the soundtrack still seeps into this song, I’ve always loved the more stripped back piano-centric approach that Vince Guaraldi takes with this song on the classic A Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack. The simple and sweet lullaby-esque melody at the core of the song really works well with the instrumentally minimal approach (which I do hear most often) and it evokes a sense of very sweet nostalgia (for me at least), and I can’t not like it.

9/10

“Angels We Have Heard on High”

You know I’ve heard some pretty alright versions of this song when it’s pushed toward its more energetic side. That over the top run on “glOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoria” tends to be the make-or-make moment of the song, and when a singer or choir commits to it and goes all out, it can sound pretty rad; I’m sure some power metal band somewhere out there has put a decent spin on it. The rigid, traditional delivery I hear more often, though, sadly sounds more often like it’s had the life sucked out of it.

7/10

“Silent Night”

Probably my favorite of the soft Christmas songs, just soulful melodies abound here and written in a way that hasn’t encouraged too many stupid renditions.

9/10

“Santa Baby”

This song is just fuckin’ weird, and I get the place of romance it’s coming from lyrically: finally dropping the charade of Santa Claus and being romantic with the speaker’s husband after putting on the act for the children. It’s cute and endearing, but god is it always so weirdly sung, in a hyperseductive baby voice, not subtle at all, and kind of not fitting with the kind of sweet endearing romanctic tone you would think it’d be carrying if you just read the lyrics. There are definitely worse Christmas/holiday romance songs, and I can definitely imagine this song being performed more sweetly than it usually is.

6/10

“Hark! the Herald Angels Sing!”

This. Song. Is. A. Banger. Glorious and triumphant as shit! It sounds good slow and fast, but definitely best when it’s played bold and loud, as opposed to some contrived-ass attempt at a ballad. This song feels like finishing a marathon. I’d pay to hear Khemmis do this fuckin’ song.

10/10

“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”

Sinatra’s version of the song is probably the most famous at this point, and as a consequence, the very title I think tends to invoke his signature smooth delivery on its own. I used to hate this one, but these days I find its naturally soothing character much more welcoming, god, especially this year. I can see why some find it to droll and sloggy, but I think it’s a nice wind-down tune.

7/10

“Last Christmas”

You know, the original synth-pop version by Wham! isn’t too bad on its own; George Michael’s delivery is pretty heartfelt and I can see why it’s become such modern Christmas staple. However, in the context of Christmas background music, that repetitive chorus refrain that seems to be the only lyric anyone knows in the song, gets really grating when it’s the only thing that sticks out, the more scaled-back delivery of the verses aiding their being buried in the chatter with your eggnog-sipping relatives. Furthermore, I’ve yet to hear a cover of the song less dry than sandpaper. Positive points to the original only.

6/10

“Away in a Manger”

This song certainly gets points for its strong narrative consistency, but aside from the “the stars in the sky” line, the melody is really really lame, and infantile in a bad way, and I have yet to hear a version that doesn’t sound like it was done by or similar to an apathetic children’s choir. It’s that quintessential song that every church kindergarten choir gets forced to sing because it’s nice and slow and narrow-range that all the kids look absolutely braindead singing. Not that it’s ever the kids’ fault or anything, it’s just a boring-ass song whose weak-ass strategy hinges on a bunch of 5-year-olds getting into something they clearly don’t give a shit about.

4/10

“The Little Drummer Boy”

You know, I could envision a slow-building post-rock-esque version of this song being pretty cool, but to date, all I have heard is stiff corny solo vocal delivery a la Angela from The Office and haphazard attempts at injecting tons of energy into the song that don’t really fix the kooky melody at the core of it. I swear you can always hear whoever is singing it getting red in the face from the needless intensity.

3/10

"Christmas Time Is Here"

Another solid cut from the soundtrack to A Charlie Brown Christmas, its rather simple instrumental foundation serves as a pretty solid introductory piece for the season; it feels so much like welcoming in the winter. And then of course the jazz embellishments on the instrumental version are some of the best in the Christmas genre, though listening to the soundtrack these days makes me wonder what it would be like if a more bombastic and dynamic jazz band took these songs on a more wild ride. I would love to hear that.

8/10

“Joy to the World”

It’s a little bit cheesy, but I kinda appreciate how ridiculously celebratory this tune is. It’s another one that I think would be interesting to hear Khemmis do a quick cover of, despite the religious theme that doesn’t really fit into their style. At the very least, it always sounds fun or, indeed, joyous.

7/10

“We Three Kings”

I’m not convinced anyone cares about this song.

5/10

“The First Noel”

This is another one of those songs whose runny melody tends to lead to it being delivered so often way too seriously, never really all too fun or worthy of the seriousness either.

3/10

“O Come, O Come Emanuel”

This is another one of those songs that, on the surface, seems more genuine with its minor key and often stoic delivery, and that definitely makes it better than the vast majority of Christmas songs, but the melody and lyrics are a bit oddly mismatched, and the melody that serves as the key appeal in the song does wear thin as the years go on. Nevertheless, I always do seem to find a cool new version ever year or two.

7/10

“Do You Hear What I Hear?”

Goddamn this is such a goofy-ass song. Who the hell made this? I cannot take it seriously. One point for all the kids for the apt “do you smell what I smell?”

1/10

“Mary Did You Know?”

Again, who wrote these lyrics? Like, in the story Mary made up to explain her out-of-wedlock pregnancy, that was kind of the main thing, that this kid would do some crazy shit. I can’t take this song seriously either, especially when it gets the goofy overly operatic treatment.

3/10

“Santa Claus Is Coming to Town”

It’s another one of those songs that literally just says what Santa Claus does. Musically it’s catchy-ish, but I mean it’s about Santa Claus, and it’s so often sung in that overly serious, toned down Motown style that no kid likes. I never liked hearing it then, and I don’t now.

3/10

“12 Days of Christmas”

Structurally iconic, this song really doesn’t offer anything beyond that; have you ever tried listening to someone doing the whole thing? It gets old really fast, and the fact that the “halfway” point in the song, the six geese a-laying, isn’t actually the halfway point, because the verses get longer and longer... fuck! The only thing this song is good for is for structuring workouts around, nothing regarding listening to the song. It gets one point for its utility.

1/10

“It Came upon a Midnight Clear”

We really are in a stretch of trash Christmas songs right now. I don’t think this is anyone’s favorite Christmas song. It’s so lethargic and sleep-inducing, I’m falling asleep just thinking about it.

3/10

“We Wish You a Merry Christmas”

Eh, it’s kinda not a really important song. At least it wakes you up, but apart from throwing some energy into the Christmas playlist that many are often desperate for, it’s just a cheery addition of holiday-themed white noise.

4/10

“What Child Is This?”

Finally some good fucking food. I’ve heard some baller versions of this captivatingly grand song, whose accidentals and minor key really make it one of the more interesting listens during the holiday season. I would dig an Opeth cover or a Pallbearer cover, or... a Khemmis cover.

8/10

“Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!”

This is just one of those standard, old-timey, inoffensive season-themers. It’s alright, I’ve never heard any version of it that really blows my mind.

5/10

“Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree”

This one is almost indistinguishable from, but significantly less annoying than, “Jingle Bell Rock” and is similarly stiff in a way that it’s clearly not meant to be.

3/10

“White Christmas”

This might take the cake for the sleepiest Christmas song out there. It is SLOW, like Bell Witch should ironically do a 20-minute-long cover of it just to see how it goes.

4/10

“It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year”

The shopping mall theme song. It’s always given that Sinatra treatment and it only barely fits well enough into that style.

4/10

“Feliz Navidad”

This one always feels like it needs to be sung with a big, cheerful group to capture the liveliness that its main appeal is based in, which puts it at a distinct disadvantage this year. Still, it’s always a fun, sometimes even bouncy song to play during the holiday season.

7/10

“Grandma Got Run over by a Reindeer”

I do actually welcome the absurd narrative that has somehow made itself one of the season’s ironic staples, and its slightly dark humor makes for a nice change of pace in the playlist with its upbeat, campy humor.

6/10

“Deck the Halls”

Fa la la la la, la la la no.

Annoying as fuck: 2/10

“Frosty the Snowman”

God, this song should be way more cheery and kid-friendly than it is. I mean, I’m sure kids don’t mind it, but it’s just yet ANOTHER one of those songs that can’t escape its old-timey suit-and-tie incarnation for the liveliness it desperately needs.

4/10

“God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen”

One of the more compositionally clunky of the well-known minor-key Christmas songs, this one unfortunately tends to show why minor-key songs are generally a weird fit for theme. I have heard a good few modern renditions though that make the song worth keeping around.

6/10

“Jingle in the Jungle”

This one’s for the real ones out there. “Jingle in the Jungle” is not a real Christmas song per se, but it pushes the boundaries; it’s courageous. The song comes from the television series, Bob’s Burgers, in a stressful Christmas-themed episode where the musically adventurous son of the titular character, Gene, burns out his dad’s cell phone battery waiting on hold for a radio station to request this song. The phone dies and he does not get the chance to request the song, but a Christmas miracle occurs, and the station decides to play the obscure, bongo-laden song anyway, and it sure is a fun minute-long diddy.

8/10

“Wonderful Christmastime”

Paul McCartney’s peppy Christmas tune that only kinda accomplishes its light-hearted goal is simply one of many throwaway inoffensive modern Christmas songs that seems to have only gained cultural traction due to it being repetitive and simplistic af, and being made by a Beatle.

5/10

“Happy Xmas (War Is Over)”

Well it would only make sense to have the battle of the Beatles here with John Lennon’s standout Christmas track, a far more soulful, bombastic, and triumphant song that echoed his idealistic spirit in a way that makes this song not all too different from his standout solo works and compositions with The Beatles. It’s a warm, hopeful song that draws from a grounding in the harshness of reality rather than some escapist fantasies about Santa or religion. Despite the acknowledgement of the ills of the world, Lennon’s vision of Christmas and his wish for the world is a day of recognition of love and unity, which is purer than 99% of the dogmatic or materialistic Christmas music above, and definitely the song right below this one.

9/10

“The Christmas Shoes”

Alright, rubbing the hands together, we’re coming to the end here, with this fucking song. It’s not the most famous Christmas song, thank God, but when I heard it for the first time, I was immediately repelled by the saccharine melody, uncannily blank-faced delivery, and sappy lyrics, but it’s one of those special songs that gradually reveals several layers of shit the more you fixate on it. For the uninitiated, the song came out in the year 2000, from the Christian band NewSong; it’s an aggressively sentimental holiday ballad with a bit of pop country vocal flair that only adds to the sinister hokey-ness of the lyrics. And that really is the ugliest facet of this song; as sickeningly cheesy as the music is, the simple lyrics here are more morbid and more disgusting than the grossest brutal death metal songs. The song is a simple narrative about a poor boy buying his sick mom some nice shoes on Christmas Eve so she can look nice for Jesus when she dies, tonight, on Christmas Eve. Yeah, it’s fucking sickening. The song is narrated from the perspective of a man in the store when the boy is buying the shoes and the narrator offers to buy the shoes for him, and he muses vaguely and confusingly on his generosity and Jesus being the “true” meaning of Christmas. Yes, there are so many questions being begged by this narrative. Why would Jesus give a shit about the shoes? Why is getting shoes this divine Christmas gesture? How do these shoes even come close to offsetting the pain and suffering and loss this family is suffering. This is like the opposite of John Lennon’s “Happy Xmas” in that it’s offering a pathetic consolation for the cruelty of a world where a loving God apparently offers only a stranger’s mild and momentary generous gesture for a poor family in the thralls of a mother’s illness. It’s grounded in the same reality that John Lennon presents, but it whitewashes it and minimizes the suffering in a manipulative way to shoehorn a rather cliche reminder to adhere to religious dogma and to keep your mind pure and holy and only on Jesus. A plain-faced telling of the narrative on its own makes it seem kind of benign, but the weirdly sappy tone of it all does a pretty poor job of hiding how contrived the emotion is and how unnatural it all is. Every facet of the lyrics is crafted to maximize the superficial primal tug at the heartstrings; it’s supposed to feel extremely tender and sweet, and aside from being completely transparently manufactured, the response it delivers to the story it sets up is creepily unhuman, the opposite of a natural response to the details of what the song presents, and its misplaced sense of justice makes the song a pretty apt representation of so much wrong with evangelicals’ attitudes surrounding Christmas.

0/10

“All I Want for Christmas Is You”

by Mariah Carrey. Ending on a positive note. Probably the best and most classic modern Christmas song to come out in my lifetime, it’s a sweet, romantic, upbeat love tune that really captures the best aspects of the holiday season. Never mind the relatives and their dumb political views and drama or the religious nonsense that people get so disingenuously up in arms about, or the consumerism. Christmas at its best is a time to appreciate love, and this song gets it.

9/10

And that is it, for me, I obviously know I will never be able to rate every Christmas/holiday song ever.

I had some time, so I had a little fun and charted the 38 semi-serious ratings of Christmas songs here, which I will also be doing with the 200-something metal albums I’ve been reviewing and now rating at the end of the year. Should be interesting. Now 38 isn’t a particularly huge sample of the huge swath of Christmas songs, nor was it random (I just listed a bunch of songs I was familiar with). It didn’t produce the normal curve I somewhat expect for the larger sample of metal albums later at the end of the year; rather, it shows a two-peak pattern, which could be due to the sample size, or maybe it just illustrates a somewhat unsurprising polarized sample of opinions on Christmas songs. The songs that I remember that are (mostly) pretty common, I either really like or really don’t like, most of the songs are not in the middle. These were songs I have heard for a long time and remembered pretty vividly, so I’ve developed some relatively strong opinions on them. Anyway, look at this graaaaaaphh.

#Christmas #Christmas songs #Christmas music #Holiday songs #holiday music

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eightlittletalons · 4 years

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Prompt #7: Nonagenarian

Prompt number 7! I’m a little impressed with myself that I’ve been able to keep this up. This was inspired by the little talk Ardbert has with you in your room in the Pendants where he chats with you about whether or not the Exarch spies on you in your room lmao

Definition of nonagenarian : a person whose age is in the nineties

The rhythmic sound of chopping filled the suite, the methodical motions of the knife slicing through the chanterelle mushrooms soothing to E’andrhis’ nerves. The Warrior of Light liked to cook. He wouldn’t say that he was good at it, per say, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.

“Smells good! What are you making?” The sudden, yet familiar voice made him jump, and the knife’s following downward stroke came dangerously close to slicing into the meat of his finger. E’andhris exhaled slowly, and placed the knife aside.

“Ardbert, what a pleasant surprise,” he said dryly. He turned to face his incorporeal friend, leaning back against the counter and looking back at the cutting board with an arched brow. “It’s nothing terribly fancy, just some mushrooms fried in a bit of butter.”

“Simple, but delicious!” Ardbert exclaimed. He drew closer to the kitchenette with a curious look. “I was never much of a cook, myself. Though there were these muffins from Voeburt that I managed to puzzle out once. I can probably remember the recipe if you give me enough time to think on it.”

“A hundred year old recipe, eh?” E’andhris asked, his ears canted forward in interest. I admit I’ve a soft spot for baked goods, though gods know I don’t have the patience to make them myself. Too much math. I’d rather just throw things together and see what happens.” He turned back to the stove and scooped some butter into the pan to melt over fire.

“That sounds just like you,” Ardbert said, giving a huff of a laugh. He approached then, leaning against the counter to watch E’andhris’ movements. Close enough that the miqo’te could feel the tingling sensation of the hume’s presence. He assumed it had something to do with aether. Maybe he’d ask the Exarch about it one day.

“So. How much of the cuisine from before the Flood has made it through to present day?” he asked Ardbert instead. He flicked an ear in the man’s direction to let him know he was paying attention even if his focus was on the pan in front of him.

“More than you might think, with all that death and destruction,” came the answer, the man rubbing his chin as he thought. “Though less than I’d like to say. But if you’re asking about specifics, you’ve got the wrong man. I can give you broad history lessons, not the nitty gritty details. You’re better off looking in that library they’ve got here in the Crystarium.”

E’andrhis snorted, then gave a thoughtful frown. “It’s difficult to believe how drastically different the flow of time has been between our worlds. We first met only a little over a year ago, for me.”

Ardbert’s responding frown was heavy, and his sigh heavier. “Aye, and here a century. Not that I remember much of it.” The mood in the room plummeted, and E’andhris bit the inside of his cheek hard in self-punishment for being so careless with his words. He rattled his brain for a way to raise the man’s spirits.

“So what, that makes you a...” he squinted up into the air as if it would give him the insight he sought. “A nonagenarian?”

The hume snorted back a lack. “A what? I think someone’s been spending too much time with his Exarch.” He nudged E’andhris without thought, and both were shocked to find that he made contact. It felt...strange. Tingly. E’andhris filed that information away for the future.

“My Exarch, is he?”

“Oh, don’t give me that, I’ve nothing to do but watch,” Ardbert teased. “I’ve seen the way the two of you revolve around one another when you’re together. You get into this little world all your own. He can’t take his eyes off of you. Or at least, I think. It’s hard to say with that blasted hood.” E’andhris gave a noncommittal hum, though he felt the back of his neck heat up. He hoped his flush wasn’t too obvious, or he’d feed into the teasing. “What do you suppose his eyes look like, anyway?”

Red, E’andhris’ mind helpfully provided, though he didn’t speak it aloud. For as long as the Crystal Exarch wanted to play his little game of anonymity and deceit, the Warrior of Light was willing to follow along. At least until he could figure out why the secrecy, why the lie that the hooded man didn’t know who G’raha Tia was. It was all he could do to not grab the little bastard by the shoulders and kiss the sense back into him.

He must have been quiet for longer than he realized. Ardbert gave an aggravated sigh from beside him and gave his shoulder a heavy pat that left pins and needles in its wake. “Alright, I’ll stop making fun of you about your crush.” Ah, now E’andrhis’ blush was clearly visible.

“It’s alright, Ardbert,” he assured softly. “Things are just...complicated. He’s so attentive and friendly, but then when I attempt to get to know him better, he almost literally runs away from me.” The mage pulled out a wooden spoon, sliding the mushrooms into the pan then, and closed his eyes halfway to savor the sizzle they made.

“Were I able to touch anyone else, I’d give him a swift kick in the buttocks on your behalf,” Ardbert vowed. E’andhris laughed, though he felt oddly touched. “Can you just imagine that though? Not being able to see me, even, and wham! Laid out flat on the floor seemingly by nothing at all.”

“I’d pay good gil to see it,” E’andhris admitted with a grin. “Maybe not to the Exarch, though. He doesn’t deserve it, as irritated as I get at times with him.” He half-heartedly pushed the mushrooms around in the pan.

Ardbert crossed his arms over his chest, his phantasmal armor squeaking at the hinges. “Well, if you ever wanted, I could go spy on him for you. We could see just how much he pines for you.” E’andhris spun to give the taller man his best disapproving look, brandishing the spoon threateningly. Ardbert laughed and ducked away, even as the utensil phased straight through him. “Alright, alright! No more teasing, I promise!”

#ffxivwrite2020 #Ardbert #E'andhris Tia #WoLExarch #technically though the exarch makes no appearance in this one #Liv writes

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vcsecretgifts · 4 years

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Wipe his blood from your mouth with mine

(Otp shenanigans based on what could have happened between Armand and Daniel post hunting together in the warm rain - in last chapter of Prince Lestat - {Hope that’s okay not a blood communion fan and Daniels not in it…} Lestat and Louis are nosey, helpful spectators/advisors In that order. A little nsfw, soppy and an essay of angst. Hope you like It! Merry Christmas 🤗)

Gift for: @headfrst4halos

From: @auburnandamberangel

…

A few nights had passed since their reunion, they’d hunted together in the warm rain - eyes had acknowledged them slipping out together but no interference, this felt more solid then previous meetings. A certain Roman not such a prominent Father hen presence. Familiarity was steadfast, much left unsaid between but in the spirit of having survived this latest blip in immortality pushed down to be revived at a later time. Negotiating simply being in each others company was rollercoaster enough. Small glances, heated snatched stares. Measuring the changes in eachother, coveting the lack of them.

The huge cinema room, a ridiculous term as he’d paid good dollars to watch a flick in smaller venues, the latest safe space to catch up. A do not disturb sign hooked on the double doors, a lock across them. Not that this meant much to telekinetic mentalists amongst them. But a polite notice to leave them in privacy. Daniel was eyeing Armands form, at least what he could see beneath the knitted Sweaters neckline. No tanning or change in tone to porcelain perfect flesh. The theory of their healing abilities known, but never tried into practice by himself just yet. Not that he hadn’t had the impulse - Marius ha immolation was beneath him, always made sure his charge was safe and sound come sunrise.

Armand noted changes too, still flushed as marked his age in the blood. But more strength coiled than should have accumulated in the decades since their parting. His blood then, nursing his fledgling. Practicality was one thing, necessity another, but his passionate possessive side said hang being reasonable - the implications of the to and fro between his beloved and his maker. Aside from Louis’ attack post interview only his fangs had tasted Daniels blood, only his fangs had parted flesh in his necks favourite crook. Louis had understood his hesitancy to bring the subject up, close companions coming together in a time of mutual vulnerability. Many happy years spent in New York. Trinity Gate their slice of peace. "It's not as if I’ve ever asked Lestat to compare me to David. Though it doesn’t mean I’ve never thought it. Never ask a question you mightnt like the answer to.“ His response had been succinct. "But Cher they were definitely lovers. This situation is less clear cut.“ Louis had smiled then, shrugged meaning everything and nothing. "Things concerning Marius rarely are, are they."Preaching to this choir had been his reply.

Daniel was recalling his own pep talk with Lestat, not so much a pep talk as the brat Prince not so subtly inquiring as to his intentions towards his blood brother. More being spoken at. "I feel responsible for his last brush with oblivion. I’d rather not stand idle at this potential catalyst to my blood brothers well being.”

Feeling peeved and rather touched all at once, he’d nodded. “Lestat you’re many things but thinking of you as my uncle and I your nephew is too, too much to want to comprehend!" Thankfully the mercurial anointed leader took his words in good humour. Always had quite liked him fortunately, could once upon a time have run away on adventures together. Though whose heart that particular fancy was meant to wound more Louis or Armand - Daniel had never quite fathomed. Hands up in a sign of peace he’d added. "Rest assured I’ve always broken my own heart over him, I’d rather that than breaking his ever again. I was off my noodle for way too long. I have alot to catch up on.”

A strange look had passed over Lioncourts face. “I said something similar to him you know. …‘You break my heart you little fool, you always have…’ I think i prefer your sentiment.” Shudder as if someone had walked over his grave. Memnoch related Daniel had assumed.

“Can I ask a favour. Could you make sure Marius doesn’t try to help us in what no doubt will be a charged, embarrassing and classically devil and minion problematic fest." Brow quirked at this request Lestat had smirked, a twinkle in those famed blue eyes. "Run interference as they say. It’ll be a pleasure." Making to turn heel and leave. Pausing. "You know I can’t decide if you smell different or not… Never mind." With that winking and walking away before Daniel could comment what he’d meant.

Back in the room, Daniel edged nearer, leaning across the plush seat between them to better see Armands face. Rewarded with a wistful tug of lips.

"Of all the vampires in Trinity I have your full attention still. Im flattered.” Eyes warmed in a way they hadn’t been in quite sometime. Flitting to Daniel equally captivated violet ones.

“Always will have it too.” Moving almost to sit on the arm of aforementioned middle seat.

“Its…complicated. Or whatever the get out clause for a relationship not happening is these days…online.” He’d tried to keep up to date with modern jargon. Not as much fun as learning with his minion in the eighties, but he couldn’t wouldn’t allow himself to atrophy again.

“There it is breathtaking in every way yet simultaneously so stupid!” Daniel hitting the seats cushion in a burst of frustration. The seat rocked. Oops.

Armand laughed despite himself. “There’s that sassy mouth I’m fond of coming out to play.” Glancing down at the seat, it had been bent. Ah.

“Give my mouth something else to do. Kiss me. I promise I’m same as I ever was.” Just a plain simple kiss, though usually desire took over and wham they were engaging in full on blood sharing in a blink.

“Let’s not rush into things…” Playing with a stray curl, rapidly teasing it out. At this rate he’d have straightened his locks from the sheer tension of it all.

“I’m not waiting six years again for a snog. The chase ended. We’re way passed third base now don’t you think?!” Edge of something darker in his tone. Lestats words echoing in his mind now.

“We hunted together.. Be- Daniel.” Slip of the tongue he’d nearly uttered beloved. “That was alot.” No lies there. He hunted alone as a rule, Daniel was the only immortal he’d shared with.

“I know we shared the kill. Shared the blood. It was great, lovely. But Im not going to lie I wanted to be responsible for your heart racing…” Wow his throat was dry. Blurting all this oit, no holding back or hiding behind word play. “Is it because I smell different.”

“Smell? What do you mean?” Nose prickling as he’d wondered hadn’t he, a moment before about infusions from a twice millennial source. Did he hesitate because on a base level Daniels blood smelt different because it was…

“Lestat said something about me smelling different. Is it because I smell more like him. Like Marius?”

Deep breath. Right to the jugular of the situation. Flush of pride who the hell else spoke to him like this, no one.

“We were parted whatever happened between you is none of my business. It would only be natural for you to seek comfort in his arms… He’s very persuasive.” The words were coming out, but he knew his heart wasn’t so forgiving or clear cut.

“Well fuck! Your going to quote we were on a break. Really! This isn’t Friends. I doubt either of us matches Ross or Rachel.” Daniel realising bow improbable it was for Armand to be up to date with 90s pop culture. “It wasn’t like that. It was feeding not flirting. I wasn’t exactly following a balanced diet. I don’t want him, it’s you it always has been!” Last hit to the seat and it screeched it’s last. “Shit! I’m sorry.” Staring at his hands like he’d just seen them.

Armands eyes widened. There was that strength again. Not more thsn his own but a progression. Lestats mind voice in his head. *Do I need to come in and break you guys up? Or is this good rough?* That famous timing…*No. He’s broken my furniture, no harm to me. And it’s always good rough between us for the record.* Satisfaction at the too much information wince on Lestats part. *Don’t make me tell on you to Louis, you know he hates you being a voyeur.* Quirk of a brow inside and out. *Its been a while we’re out of practice.* Pleasing ringing of laughter as the brat Prince took the hint. Opening his eyes from a protracted blink to Daniels face and form kneeling right infront of him. Unforgivable this oversight, to allow himself to be this surprised. Hadn’t even seen him move. No threat from this vampire though, no need for high alert physically, only emotionally. Always his heart that needed protection. Minute frown appearing. The urge to reach out and run fingers through Daniels hair almost over powering. Hands death gripping the plush arm rests, clawing into the material and stuffing as well as the metal frame below.

“Don’t you want me anymore. Is that it - Really?” Once he’d thought he’d never get to touch those rosy lips again. Stroke hands through deep russet flaming curls. Hear his voice and those special noises he only made for him. Cold shower for Mr Molloy. “The bloodworks just a primal excuse. The usual vampiric urges BS.” All this aside he wouldn’t force himself on Armand. Never. A time machine to kill any who had. He’d thought him dust to the wind. Well he could feel himself ready to blub. Filled to the brim with so many feelings.

Armand could smell the start of those tears. He could lick them away, like they used to. Drink the pain away. Curled up together after a fight. Entwined. Love through the blood. Strength and stay through that intimacy. “I could never not, beloved.” Time for his own tears, that affectionate term opening his own flood gates. “I don’t think I can love you how you need to be loved, is more the point. What if I make you relapse. I’d never forgive myself…” Nails now through his own palms. Chair two in ruins. His own blood scent filling the air. “My beautiful boy…”

There it was, the spicy scent he could only taste as a mortal, fully appreciating the body of it after crossing over. The aroma. Fearful words sinking in. Shaking his head. “None of that was your fault. It was just our luck to be the tortured star crossed lovers. I’m better, was well on the way to better when I knew you weren’t gone. Not dead. I left, that was on me.. I left you alone, I swore I wouldn’t in our garden but I did. I neber meant to not come back. The rot had set in, nothing made sense. But here you are whole and perfect and as maddening self introspective as ever. Don’t you get it. That was my job as your minion, to save you from yourself. To save my devil from whatever tested you. And I wasn’t there. I’ll be Damned if I ever make that mistake aga-” Words cut off as bloody yet healed hands reached for him, pulling Daniel bodily into his lap. Not an easy task sized as they were.

Armand couldn’t bear him saying one more heart wrenching thing. Broke that physical truce and kissed him as requested. Lips breaking away from his only to lap away falling tears. Poised staring into violet orbs he’d been lost in the moment they’d met, truth be told. Breathy. Quite the achievement for beings who didn’t need respiration. “Mine, you taste like my better heart. With added vintage. Wipe his blood off your lips with mine.” A single bead of blood for Daniels tasting. Hand teasing his lovers skirt buttons, to touch skin on skin.

Years were stripped away and here they were like nothing had happened battle scarred yet together. That’s all the mattered. Familiar elixir warming him in ways he never expected. Picking him up to better remove clothing, they had to map each others bodies like old times.

Sometime later.

Laying on the plush carpeted floor, clothes strewn around them. Not a stitch left on them. A third seat broken on its hinges. Armand was happily listening to Daniels heartbeat. “I think I may need to redecorate.” Glancing around the mess they’d made. Stretching like a cat.

“Agreed perhaps we should make a passion room. But hey we’re super rich so why spoil the fun. At least in this cinema there’s no popcorn stuck in odd places like that time we got romantic in Palm Springs.” Kissing his makers forehead. Basking in after glow. “I’m pretty sure we’ve thoroughly infused each others blood counts.”

“One can never be too careful. We need to hunt. I don’t want you getting peeky as I was so enthusiastic.”

“Agreed, and I don’t mind at all. Drain me I’m your love muffin.”

Armand wrinkled his nose. “Love muffin. Wash your mouth out! We do need to lock this room up tight upon leaving. In case Cupid Lioncourt takes photos.”

Daniel laughed. “He does have a nose in most situations I admit. In this case it’s just as well. How long do you think it would have taken to jump each others bones, without his ear worm about smell?”

Armand laughed at the phrasing, a throaty chuckle sending vibrations down Daniels chest. “Not too long, possibly quicker if I’d gotten that particular ear worm and we’d gone the route of territorial angry me, with your oh so smart mouth baiting. Then we’d have made up, like old times.”

Daniel snorted. “Are we that predictable?”

“Perhaps…Now how he kept a certain others nose out of this… robust reunion is the story I want to hear…” Smiling into Daniels matching grin.

“Now that story can wait.” Winking and gathering Armand closer again. “Round three?”

#2019 VC Secret Santa #VC #Vampire Chronicles #submission #auburnandamberangel #headfrst4halos

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marshmallowgoop · 5 years

Video

All the discussion around episode 6 of Kill la Kill lately just got me thinking about how the ep is really one of the show’s best.

This bit, for example, is absolutely excellent.

There’s such a fantastic buildup. The phone rings, Soroi answers and immediately stutters upon realizing who’s on the other end, and when he coarsely whispers, “It is Mistress Ragyo,” you don’t even need to know Ragyo’s connection to Satsuki to understand that this caller is a big deal.

And the anime promptly confirms as much. Satsuki accepts the call, and wham. Viewers are presented with an extreme close-up of Ragyo’s mouth and an intimidating line: “What’s this I hear about you putting on your wedding dress?”

While the moment is only a few mere seconds long, so much is accomplished. Without anyone directly saying anything, the cinematography here clearly establishes Ragyo as a monumental player in Kill la Kill’s story. The use of the extreme close-up for her first onscreen appearance—and, most notably, the fact that viewers don’t even get a glimpse of her eyes, which are so often considered “the window to the soul”—both effectively shrouds Ragyo in a compelling mystery and communicates to the audience that this character is so crucial and game changing that she can’t even be fully revealed yet. Watching this tiny, tiny moment, viewers are encouraged to wonder about Ragyo and anticipate her future appearances.

But it’s not just the visual language of the scene that conveys the sheer power of Ragyo Kiryuin. The dialogue and sound also contribute; Ragyo’s opening line is rich with implications, and though “Blumenkranz” is played briefly in the series’ first episode, and has its instrumental accompaniment quietly in the background during the moments leading up to Ragyo’s reveal, it is only after Ragyo speaks that the audience finally hears the chorus of the song. Satsuki had been the “top dog” of the show up until this point, but with just one line, Ragyo asserts herself as being a step above. At any time, Ragyo can question Satsuki’s decisions, completely without warning. She has a kind of strength and influence that even Satsuki doesn’t, and the music only adds to Ragyo’s authority. “Blumenkranz” is big and bold and says, “This person should be paid attention to.”

And, of course, the visuals continue to wordlessly emphasize Ragyo’s significance. As “Blumenkranz” kicks in, the camera zooms out and out and out. Viewers see Ragyo’s back against a white window, and then see that the window is part of a large building, and then realize in the end that this building is a very large building indeed. Ragyo’s power stretches far and wide. The scope is seemingly greater than even Honnouji Academy.

The focus then shifts away from Ragyo, but Kill la Kill ain’t at all done with building the audience up yet. As the scene moves to the following day, viewers are met with quick, close-up shots of Uzu’s note to Ryuko, timed right to the beat of “Blumenkranz.” Uzu wants to duel, and we soon get to see his full request in an engaging low-angle shot where Ryuko looks up to this sign looming over her. The weight and gravity of the situation is effectively conveyed: the smooth transition from Ragyo to here, as well as the music and shot composition, let us know in no indirect terms that this fight isn’t something to be brushed off. Uzu’s duel is a big deal, and it’s very much connected to Ragyo’s expansive empire.

And the tension just keeps growing. Ryuko’s reaction to Uzu’s note is presented with a dramatic canted, high-angle shot. The camera—which is just slightly tilted—peers down at both Ryuko and the sign, communicating a sense of danger and unease. Viewers already know that the upcoming battle is important, but here, we also understand that it’s not going to be easy.

In the last moments of “Blumenkranz,” the anime skips ahead in time once more, moving to the gym right before Ryuko and Uzu begin their duel there. Establishing shots show that a huge crowd has formed to watch, which once more emphasizes that the match is highly important without saying anything at all.

But more than that, the choice to switch straight from Ryuko’s encounter with Uzu’s sign to this filled-up gym is simply good storytelling. We don’t go through Ryuko’s day. We don’t get to hear students whispering about the duel before it happens. We don’t get our time wasted.

Kill la Kill piques our interest and goes right into the action, saying everything we need to know with just a few shots. We understand that the students had to be talking about the fight and that Ryuko had to deal with this pressure on her all throughout her classes just by seeing this crowd. The storytelling here is simple, clear, effective, and so dang well done.

I think I’ve mentioned in the past that if someone were to watch any parts of Kill la Kill, they should watch episodes 5 and 6. It’s moments like this 45-second clip that really showcase why at least episode 6 is well worth the time. The villain introduction is fantastic, the buildup is so ridiculously compelling that a “meet me after school for an ass kicking” note feels grand and epic and powerful, and the storytelling is just plain good.

#kill la kill #klk meta #ragyo kiryuin #blumenkranz #don't toy with me on a whim #ramblings #video #i heard some bad news today so idk... here's something positive

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